


Melodies & Morphling

by teletubabe



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Gossip Girl Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Canon Compliant, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hunger Games, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot Collection, Romance, School Reunion, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-08-16 03:48:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 53,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8085898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teletubabe/pseuds/teletubabe
Summary: Collection of Gale/Madge one shots written by me, because Gale and Madge are meant to be together in every world.  Some are smutty, some are not; there's something for everyone!





	1. Kiss Me, Please

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters are as follows, I'm trying to make these descriptions as clear as possible, so a rating is attached. All "E" ratings are because of smut.
> 
> 1\. College Friends With Benefits (Rated E)  
> 2\. Catching Fire Not-Really-Friends With Benefits (Rated T)  
> 3\. Single Parents (Rated T)  
> 4\. High School Reunion (Rated E)  
> 5\. Teacher Colleagues: Part 1 (Rated G)  
> 6\. Teacher Colleaugues: Part 2 (Rated T)  
> 7\. Gossip Girl AU (Rated M)  
> 8: Vacation: Part 1 (Rated M)  
> 9\. Engagement (Rated T)  
> 10\. Nurse Madge and Soldier Gale - WW1 (Rated T)  
> 11\. Best Friends (Rated E)  
> 12\. Madame Faye's Brothel (Rated E)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gadge College AU where Gale shows up at Madge's door after a party, and they come to a breaking point after months of casual sex. Rated EXplicit for sexual content.

It's almost one in the morning when Madge finishes writing her lengthy essay on the influences of the Baroque era on modern music; she managed to complete it before the deadline despite her last minute visit home, and she only needed the help of one cup of coffee to get it done.  She sends it to the printer and goes to her bedroom for a sweater while all 12 pages begin rolling through the machine.  

 

The air is chillier than it should be in October, and Madge almost slaps herself when she realizes her sweaters are still in a cardboard box from home sitting in her closet, waiting to be unpacked.  Surprisingly she does find one unrecognizable crew neck though; it's far too big, navy blue, smells like pine and _oh_ , she realizes.  It's Gale's.

 

Her heart hurts a little bit and she chews on her lip in contemplation.  He must of left it here a few weeks ago by accident and she should probably just put it in her bag to give him when she sees him on campus, _but it really is chilly_ , Madge reasons.  Without thinking much more, she slips it on and inhales his scent - already feels much warmer than she did before.

 

Madge heads to the kitchen and turns on the kettle.  While she waits for her water to boil she heads over to her desk, collecting her essay sheets, reading them over and stapling them.  When her kettle begins to whistle from her stove top, she heads back over, making a cup of hot tea that will hopefully warm her up.  From afar she hears the sound of pounding music and loud voices, all obviously coming from a party a few blocks down.  She's grateful for her apartment that's further from campus.  It's much quieter and she is not one for parties anyways.  There are a couple voices still talking outside her building, but it's still far better than the cacophony of beer pong and sorority sisters.

 

After a couple minutes of enjoying her tea in her quiet apartment, two sharp knocks on her door interrupt Madge's train of thought.  She wonders who could be at the door this late, but really, who else could it be? Madge panics, realizing she's still wearing his sweater, that she is disheveled and looks beyond fatigued.  Yet, he's probably drunk, and most likely won't notice any of that anyways.  She's just going to greet him, tell him she's tired and send him on his merry way.

 

She opens the door slowly, and of course, she's right, Gale Hawthorne is standing outside her apartment in the middle of the night; his eyes light up when he sees her.

 

"Hey Undersee, what are you up to?" he asks with a boyish smile.  He looks worn in - his hair a little longer than she's used to and his stubble that indicates he hasn't shaved in a few days.  She admires the view, he's usually so moody and dark in public but tonight he looks carefree, more like the 20 year old he really is.

 

Madge shrugs. "I was going to go to bed I guess, it's pretty late, don't you think?"

 

"Yeah I'm sorry, I was over at Lambda Chi's party, wasn't all that much fun really, and your apartment wasn't that far so.. I thought I'd pay you a visit," he explains.  She hears the innuendo in his words.

 

"Was Katniss there?"

 

He looks at her like he doesn't understand what she's asking.  To be honest, Madge doesn't know what she's asking either.  "Uh, yeah, she was there with Mellark, why?"

 

Katniss was there and he decided to come here.  She supposes that means something positive, but then again maybe he was just angry seeing Katniss with Peeta and came here out of spite.  "I don't know.  So why wasn't it that much fun?"

 

Gale scrunches his brow and smiles on one side.  "I feel like I'm being interrogated, god, Undersee," he jokes, "Fine, I guess it was ok, it wasn't boring.  I just wanted to come.  I wanted to see you.  Besides, we haven't seen each other in a long time, have we?"

 

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest; even though she has on his sweater, her legs are bare and the draft from outside is getting in the building again.  "You can't just come here in the middle of the night when you don't have any luck at your frat parties, Gale,” she sighs.  His eyes tease her and he smirks just a bit.  A loose strand of hair is in front of her ear, he reaches out to play with it and twirls it around his fingers, and she feels a shiver run down her spine, she hopes Gale doesn't notice.  "It's not like that. Besides, why not?"

 

Madge sighs, shrugging and looking away from his gaze.  "I don't know, it just doesn't feel right.  Besides, I was doing work and I was studying...", she tries to list more excuses as to why he shouldn't come in, but she can't.

 

He looks at her carefully, still playing with her hair.  Madge realizes how close they really are when she feels Gale's breath on her, he smells sharp, like beer and peppermint gum.  "Come on Undersee, I just want to talk to you, catch up a bit?"

 

"That's what I mean Gale, catching up, that's not what we do..."

 

He looks at her with intent and almost whispers,  “Then what do you want to do?"

 

It sucks the breath from her throat.  That's a really good question, one with an answer she doesn't want to say out loud, so Madge stays quiet and hugs her torso a little tighter.  He might be taking her silence for rejection; she can't read him at all, one minute he's teasing her to no end and the next he gets so intense, he looks hurt almost.

 

It isn't that she doesn't feel anything for Gale; she feels so much for him that she doesn't know how to deal with it.  It's just that they were never friends before, and just because they have an obvious physical attraction for one another doesn't mean that this could ever be a healthy relationship.  Madge needs someone stable and light-spirited who won't completely consume her, and Gale is not a single one of those things.  He sets a fire in her that she didn't know existed, and it's getting harder and harder to extinguish the flame before she finds herself craving his touch once again.

 

And it isn't that she doesn't want him to come in either.  She simply knows that they can only "catch up" for so long, and that if he looks at her with any sign that he wants her at all she'll need to kiss him and Lord knows she won't be able to stop herself from kissing every inch of him after that and letting him do the same.  Gale knows what he does to her when he plays with her hair, stands so close to her or talks to her like that.  It’s not fair, and Madge wishes she was more in control – she’s almost always in control, except for when it comes to Gale.

 

He says her name quietly, bringing her out of her own head and back to reality.  Madge looks up at him wide eyed and stammers, "Uh, I- I guess you could come in for a little bit, why not?"

 

She's hyper aware as he steps into her familiar apartment, she's biting the inside of her cheek as Gale takes off his coat and neatly places it on the counter. He turns to face her and just stares.  He's fidgety, maybe even nervous though Madge couldn't know the reason why.

 

"So the party," Madge starts, breaking the silence. "You didn't stay for long, did you?"

 

Gale looks amused by her attempt at small talk. "Well, I was there for a few hours actually, but I only had a beer or two, mostly just talked to Thom and Darius."

 

"That's... That's good," she replies awkwardly.  She doesn't know why she's like this, why she can't act normal right now.  They get along well, but usually they're straight to the point and their mouths are occupied in many other ways before they need to speak so many words.  Perhaps this is what she feared; how could they ever have anything more than casual sex when they can’t even have a normal conversation?

 

"I know you went back home last weekend," Gale remarks, leaning back against the counter.  "You went to see your mom?"

 

Madge nods curtly. "Yeah, she had a really bad episode, so the housekeeper called the hospital.  Dad's out on a business trip so I needed to go back, to make sure she was okay."

 

"Is she?"

 

She’s caught off guard.  "Huh?"

 

"Is your mom okay?" he asks, his concern is genuine and kind.

 

"Honestly?" Madge starts. She thinks about whether her mom will be okay or not.  She's never had migraines so bad before and her new medication makes her lucid, she's barely a person anymore.  Sometimes she has moments of clarity but most of the time... "Honestly, I have no idea."

 

It still hurts, like a dull throbbing pain in her chest.  For every time she manages to keep it together, Madge feels tears swelling up and pushes them away with her sleeve. Gale takes her arm and pulls her in, hugging her tightly. They're flush against each other, backed up against her counter but it doesn't feel perverse, it just feels correct. It's comforting to be compressed like that, she feels more together and less like her home life is falling apart.  Her arms wrap around his torso and she buries her head in his chest; if she listens closely enough, she can hear his heart beating strong against her ear.

 

"It's going to be okay," he mumbles into her hair. "I'm sorry I brought it up, I'm so sorry Madge."

 

They've never been this open, this emotional with each other before, but Madge decides she likes it - likes the way he holds her, the way he comforts her. She has faith her mom will be okay, she just wishes her Dad would come home once in awhile to watch over her, not some hired housekeeper who doesn't care.  Usually Madge does a good job of juggling school, friends and everything going on back home, but lately she just feels burnt out.

 

And she really does appreciate that Gale came over, she loves the way he feels against her.  Is it selfish to want more?  She pulls back a little bit so that she's looking into his grey eyes and tugging at the collar of his shirt.

 

"Gale?" she whispers, ever so slightly.

 

He hesitates a little bit, most likely thinking about what she wants to say, or maybe (just maybe) he's lost in her eyes too. Maybe he sees in Madge something that he really wants.  She scared it might be true, scared it might be false.  He swallows hard, his lips form a tight line.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Kiss me, please."

 

There are no second thoughts, no nerves, and no questions.  His lips capture hers and that's all matters.  It’s a kiss different from before.  This one is filled with empathy and tastes like comfort.  His lips are just as she remembers them; slightly chapped yet smooth, gentle yet demanding.  In a surge of confidence, Madge takes his bottom lip in her mouth and bites down gently, and Gale groans into the kiss.  His hands around her waist suddenly feel less soothing and more teasing, and her own are framing his face, pulling him in.

 

She knows it’s too good to be true; Gale doesn’t want her like this no matter what he says, and it takes all the strength inside of her to pull away from him.  But Gale either doesn’t notice her adamancy or doesn’t care, because he leans in to kiss jaw, lick her earlobe, and suck on the sensitive skin on her neck.  Madge gasps and silently curses herself, because she wants it, _oh god,_ she wants it so bad.

 

“Gale,” she starts, trying to interrupt his ministrations, but it comes out more as a gasp of pleasure.  “Gale,” she tries again, firmer this time, and he raises his head to look into her eyes.

 

“Did I do something wrong?”

 

“No, no, I just-“

 

“What is it, Madge?  You can tell me anything,” he asks, his voice full of warmth.

 

She shakes her head and opens her mouth as if to speak, but nothing comes out.  “I just… I don’t think you want this.”  It’s faint, barely a whisper, and she hopes he hears her clearly because she doesn't think she can say it again.

 

Madge finds herself pacing quickly backwards, away from Gale.  “If you want to go, you should.”  She finds herself at her door still looking at Gale; she turns the knob behind her and the creak of the door fills the silence, almost cuts into it.  His eyes are so intense, they look like they're trying to read her, and Madge notices that she doesn't feel so cold anymore.

 

“I don’t want to go,” Gale states, pushing the door closed behind her.  His arms are planted on either side of her and Madge is trapped against the door.  His mouth is right by her ear when he talks, barely a whisper, “Why do you keep doubting how much I like you?”

 

Madge takes a deep breath with her eyes closed  and realizes how neurotic she’s being.  When she opens them, he’s looking at her with that playful, boyish smile again and she doesn’t ask this time when she leans into meet his lips.  What’s wrong with Madge just wanting some release tonight?  Who says it means anything different than the other times Gale’s been over?  Her arms come up to wrap around his neck, and Gale presses her into the door more persistently than before.  What starts as an innocent kiss quickly evolves, as it always does, into a heated and insatiable need for Gale to caress her and take care of all her desires.  

 

Soon, he’s playing with the hem of the sweater and his fingers are grazing against her thighs.  “What do you think you’re doing?” Madge asks, hoping she sounds teasing.  He laughs as he continues to tug it upwards, exposing her pale midriff between her ridden-up tank top and tiny shorts.  Gale groans at the view.  “I’m taking my sweater back, you thief.”

 

As soon as Madge raises her arms and he tosses the sweater aside, Gale’s lips are back on her skin, kissing her collarbones and worshiping her neck.  He finds some skin on her shoulder and sucks gently, making Madge cry out and cradle the back of his head tighter.  It’s going to leave a mark, but for once, neither of them seem to care.  

 

He makes his way down to her cleavage, nibbling and licking the tops of her breasts.  His fingers tug at the straps of her tank and he looks up, grey eyes meeting pale blue ones.  “Can I take this off too?”

 

Madge nods insistently as Gale slips her shirt off.  To show him just how naked she wants to be, she kicks off her shorts too and stands in front of him clad in her panties.  She’s not wearing a bra - obviously, who is at 1 in the morning?  He’s looking her up and down intently, he takes his own shirt off too.

 

She admires his chiseled, tan torso as he gazes down at her.  “You’re so beautiful,” he breathes out, reaching out to palm one of her breasts.  Gasping, Madge feels her nipples hardening under his touch.  When his tongue darts out to lick one of them, her back arches from the door trying to create more friction.  He takes turns, sucking one taught peak as he pinches and flicks the other.  He knows her body too well, knows how to make her writhe and moan.  They still aren’t that good with each other when it comes to feelings or small talk, but if there’s one thing Gale and Madge know well, it’s each other’s bodies.  

 

His mouth descends further, and when Madge looks down she see’s that now he’s kneeling on the floor.  He kisses her stomach while his hands move back to cup her ass.  “I want to taste you so badly,” Gale says, and Madge whimpers.  She’s biting her nails in anticipation of his next move.

 

Gale slowly tugs at her panties until they fall to her ankles, exposing her wet desire for him.  "Jesus Christ, Madge," he groans under his breath.  A few gentle kisses are planted on her inner thighs, making her even wetter than she was before.

 

Standing there, pressed against her door with legs spread open, Madge feels paralyzed. She wishes she was the type who would say something sexy in response, or run her fingers through his hair pulling him closer between her legs, or the type to admit that she's thought about this moment before far more than she should've, but she's not. So instead she stands as she is and bites her nails, waiting for Gale to say something, anything, to ease her anxiety.

 

Instead, he presses a wet kiss against her lips and finds her clit between his lips to suck lightly, and Madge comes apart.

 

She lets out a cry as he laps at her core - slowly at first, more diligently as her moans urge him on. Daring to look down, she catches a glimpse of Gale's eyes that are dark with desire, staring at her face that contorts with pleasure. It's too intense for her, too real, so she looks away as quickly as possible before she's completely lost.

 

His tongue is so thick when it licks up and down her pussy lips, and her hips push forward just slightly, grinding into his face.  Soon one of Gale's fingers are prodding at her entrance, and Madge can't help but buck her hips forward. Her nerve endings are on fire, every touch and every stroke bring her closer and closer to the brink. When he sinks his rough, calloused finger into her cunt, he stopped licking her and instead peppers kisses along her inner thighs.  "You taste so sweet, like vanilla," he mumbles against her skin. "And I love the sounds you're making for me, baby."

 

Madge moans even louder after that, knowing that it's turning him on and encouraging him to go faster.  She feels his second finger sliding in to fuck her too and his mouth returns to sucking diligently on her clit and feels like she's going to burst any second now.  

 

“Oh my god, I love that.  Please don't stop,” she begs.  She doesn't know when her hips started grinding down so diligently to meet his mouth but she can’t stop; it feels so fantastic and perfect, she doesn’t know how to.  Her hands go to her breasts and she rolls her sensitive nipples between fingertips.  When Gale sees this, he groans into her cunt.  The vibrations catch Madge by surprise and she gasps loudly at the sensation.

 

When Madge finally reaches complexion, she cries out something similar to his name while every muscle in her body tenses up.  For a second, she’s lost in a bliss so overwhelming and thick that all she can do is stand there and catch her breath.  She feels Gale kiss her hipbones and rise to face her.

 

Their lips graze ever so slightly and Madge sighs and smiles happily.  “That was amazing, you’re amazing,” she states between kisses.  “Come to the bedroom?”

 

He nods, and she leads the way into her bedroom.  Even though they’ve been in this position many times before, it’s so much less urgent, less rushed than before.  Madge thinks that she prefers it likes this, but knows she shouldn’t get too used to it.  Yet still, they’re on the bed in record time and Madge is pawing at his belt desperate to get it off.  She’s on top, chasing him towards the headboard and making quick work of his jeans and his boxers.  As soon as they’re off, Gale reaches back to her nightstand, grabbing a condom from the box that is always there.

 

The packet is torn and Gale expertly slides it on.  He’s about to flip her over so she can lay her head down, but she stops him, pinning his hand with her own on the headboard so that he’s the one that’s trapped now.

 

“No,” she says between pants.  “I want to be on top.”

 

Gale hums in approval and dips down to catch her lips, kissing her passionately and fervently.  She reaches down to give his cock a couple of lazy strokes and realizes that he’s already completely stiff.  He lets out a broken moan into her mouth, and Madge smiles at the way she affects him.  She positions herself above above him and slowly tries to accustom herself to his length.

 

Madge's eyelids flutter shut as she begins to sit down on his hard cock, and he feels so thick, so perfect inside of her she sees stars. For a second there isn't anything else that matters, only Gale's hands roaming her lower back, his heavy breathing and warmth radiating off his chest.  There's a voice in the back of her head telling her that he shouldn't feel so perfect; Gale is not hers keep, no matter what she wants. They established this long ago, this twisted friendship of theirs is only physical and will never mean anything more for him. Madge pushes these thoughts out of her head with ease as soon as Gale bottoms out, his entire length filling her up inside.

 

When Madge starts to move, his groans are in sync with every roll of her hips, his smell of coffee and sweat surround her in a sensory overload. Her swollen clit is rubbing against his skin every time she sinks down and Gale's length is stretching her walls just right, making her feel so good that she lets out a loud moan and tangles her fingers through his dark hair.

 

He leans forward to catch her nipple in his mouth, sucking lightly and looking up to see Madge's reaction. He plays her expertly like an instrument; she lets a broken sigh escape her mouth and he chuckles in response. Before moving to the next breast he nuzzles her cleavage and whispers into her cleavage.

 

"Jesus Christ, Madge, you're so perfect."

 

Madge whimpers in response, unable to formulate coherent thoughts, but it's easy to believe him when he's latched onto her nipple and she's sitting on his cock. She knows that he's said those same words to lots of other girls, and that his body is only responding to a desire that Madge happens to be providing, but she wants to find sweet release so bad and his voice carries so much conviction that she swears she doesn't care if he really wants her or not.

 

Maybe Gale only came over to fuck her, he knows that she wants him too and she's never out partying and messing with anyone else. It occurs to Madge that Gale has everyone - tons of friends, a family that loves him, girls throwing themselves at him - and she only has him to hold on to.

 

She stops thinking about this all together and instead grinds down on his cock harder, eliciting a strangled cry from Gale.  His Adam's apple is bobbing up and down and all the muscles across his chest are tense, Madge feels the sudden urge to kiss and nibble on every inch of his taut skin. Mindless, shallow thrusts begin to meet Madge's core, and she can barely savour the moment when Gale’s ministrations on her tits become faster and harder.

 

"Oh my god, Gale I'm so close, please," she begs, not really sure what for but he seems to understand.  He lets go of her nipple and shifts upwards a little so that they're face to face.  Reaching in for light kisses, their foreheads are pressed together and and Madge can see Gale's grey eyes ignited so bright she almost doesn't recognize them.  His hands are guiding her her ass to meet his every thrust, her own are still woven through his hair and pulling him closer to her face.

 

"You drive me fucking crazy," he breathes out, and Madge can only nod in agreement.  Her belly is clenching in anticipation for her release.  Each move of their hips becomes more urgent and more passionate, and soon she has her arms wrapped all the way around his neck, chin resting on his shoulder and she’s biting down on the nape of his neck trying to control her cries.

 

She comes harder than she has in weeks, wrapped in lust and Gale’s ecstatic groans.  As she rides out her orgasm, she feels him suddenly tense underneath her; he jerks forward and shouts her name over and over again like a chant.  Soon he relaxes underneath her and Madge feels a wet kiss pressed onto her temple.  Both of their eyes are closed, but they're aware of their heavy breathing, gasping for air, and the head radiating off their bodies.  

 

Madge raises herself so that Gale’s no longer inside of her and falls to the side of the bed, and he shifts himself down so that his head is on the pillow beside her.  For a moment they enjoy the silence of her apartment, the ceiling fan is buzzing quietly and distant conversations are still leaking through her window.  Her head turns to look at Gale; he's staring at the ceiling through drowsy lids and he’s smiling to himself, chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths.

 

When Gale turns his face to her too, he looks looks satiated and relaxed.  “What are you looking at?” he teases.

 

“You.  Trying to figure you out,” she admits.

 

Gale shrugs.  “Nothing to figure out really.”

 

“Why did you come here?”

 

“I always come here.”

 

“No, this time was different, wasn't it?  Why are you acting like this?” Madge accuses.  

 

“No Madge it's always been the same!” he snaps, “I’ve always seen you like this, wanted you like this.  Always.  Stop trying to convince yourself that you can't be loved or don't deserve it because you deserve everything, okay?”

 

Madge doesn't know what to say or how to respond, but she knows that Gale’s wearing his heart on his sleeve in a way he never does.  She feels the need to apologize, to be forgiven for how crazy she feels she’s been acting.  “Look,” he starts again, “I just don't want you to think I only come here because I have no one else.  Well, I kind of do only have you, but I want you in more ways than that.”

 

“Ok,” Madge replies, and he looks satisfied that an agreement has been reached.  She inches closer to press the shadow of a kiss onto his lips, cradling his cheek with one hand.  “Stay here tonight?”

 

“Yeah, Madge, of course.”

 

Gale rolls over so that he's on his back, and Madge comes closer to rest on his bare chest.  He’s still so warm, she can't help but think he’s what was missing from her chilly apartment all along.  

  
  



	2. Accusations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gadge one-shot set during Catching Fire, during the Victory Tour. Slightly canon deviant? Rated T+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An idea that grew into something uncontrollable. Unbeta'd and unplanned, so try to enjoy it for what it is. This used to just be my one-shot, Kiss Me Please, but I'm going to start posting all my gadge one shots here.

Madge is eager to get out of school at the end of the day.  Classes were boring, the air was far too humid and right now everyone is pushing, jostling her around in the hallway.  Although the school is District 12 is small in building size, it crams together everyone from town and from the Seam, so the number of students is far too high for their occupancy.

 

She finally makes it out of the crowds of students and into the glaring sun.  The summer had been particularly searing this year, and even since school has started the temperatures have only dropped a bit.  Her legs take her briskly down the sandy path, straight towards town when she hears someone call her from behind.

 

“Hey Undersee!”

 

When she whips her head around, it’s Gale, and it makes her breath catch.  He’s standing in front of the school with a dopey smile, nodding his head out to greet her.

 

He’s in his mining uniform, covered head to toe in a dark dust.  His hair is matted down by the hemet he’d surely been wearing all day, and Madge can’t help but think he still looks very handsome.

 

“Out of the mines already?” she ponders out loud.  The miners are never out until 8 at night, sometimes later, so she’s surprised to see him at school right now.

 

“There was an issue with one of the elevator shafts.  Sent us all home.”

 

“Just because of one broken elevator?”

 

“Well they don’t want to pay for fixing that thing  _ and _ pay us, they do it all the time,” Gale shrugs off.  He’s acting casual about it, but Madge knows it’s going to take dollars off his paycheck for the month, and that it worries him.  “Anyways, I’m just picking up my siblings and saw you walking out.  Thought I’d say hi.”

 

_ That makes more sense,  _ Madge thinks to herself.  She doesn’t know why she got it into her head that he somehow came to school to talk to her.  They haven’t talked since the Games, since Katniss got back.  But then again, she and Peeta are off on their Victory Tour, and it’s clear that there’s a pattern going on.  He runs to her when there is no Katniss, no company for him to rely on.  And Madge holds herself to be very few things, but she  _ is  _ very reliable, and as much as she hates it she’ll let Gale use her all he wants with no external protest.

 

Her lapse of words leads to a long silence, so Gale keeps talking.  “So how is school now?  Different without me?”

 

She shrugs.  “It’s the same.  Crowded, loud, pretty boring.”

 

“Well at least you’re smart, so it’s easy for you.”  It’s supposed to be a compliment, but it also sounds like a jibe to her.  So she begins to walk away still facing him, dismissing his words of praise.

 

“I’m not that smart.  Still have lots of studying to do actually, so I’m going to head home.”

 

“Alright,” Gale nods, biting his lip slightly.  Madge is curious, but she maintains her dignity and doesn’t ask.  Instead she turns fully and picks up her pace.

 

“Wait, Madge!” she hears behind her again, and she can’t help but smile when she hears Gale jogging up to her, deciding to say what he came here to say.  “Is your dad going to be home tonight?”

 

Her head shakes.  “No.  Working late at the Justice Building again.  You know, Thursdays are always busy.”

 

Gale does know.  He used to sneak into her house every Thursday and kiss her silly.

 

“Ok well, I could drop by after dinner.  After I clean myself from all this grime.  Would that be okay?”

 

That’s a really good question that Madge isn’t sure she can truthfully answer.  Would it be okay for Gale to “come over,” like he used to, after months of barely talking?  She misses him: misses his company and conversations they used to have.  When Katniss and Peeta left for the Games, she lost two friends and felt like there was no one to turn to.  Gale fixed that in a way, and maybe he can fix it now too.

 

“Sure, I suppose that would be okay,” she responds quietly, making sure that no one from school is eavesdropping around them.  “Just come in through the backdoor, I’ll leave it unlocked.”

 

Gale nods eagerly, beginning to back up towards the school as well.  “Ok.  I see Posy coming out, so I’m gonna go.  I’ll see you later, Undersee.”

 

She gives him a small smile, the kind she gives when she’s trying to be polite, then sighs heavily and begins to walk home.  Although Madge is surprised to see him outside of school today, she’s not surprised he asked to see her.  She’s long accepted her role in Gale’s life, and secretly she wants more to be part of it at all then to be paid full attention.

 

The door creaks when she gets home, and she finds the house completely empty.  Apparently the maid has gone home already and left dinner in the kitchen for her to heat up.  Madge has no doubt it’s because of the mine closure, Lucille is always complaining about never seeing her husband anymore, and the thought of their maid having on evening of happiness makes Madge a little bit warm too.

 

If the maid’s gone, that means there’s no point it unlocking the door for Gale in advance; no one but her would hear him knocking or suspect anything.  Still, she decides to keep in open until he arrives.  He is a creature of habit, after all.  She’s scared if even the smallest thing is different, he’ll change his mind and turn around.

 

The amount of homework she had was exaggerated.  It only takes her over an hour to finish it all, mostly just making notes on a Capital approved poetry book.  The whole thing is a hoax; it’s poems are about obedience and carry aristocratic undertones, the type that would make someone in the Districts feel like this is the way things were always meant to be.  Madge thinks that making notes about poems at all is obscene.  Poetry is meant to be felt and interpreted, not used to learn new vocabulary.  But still, she finishes identifying and defining all the new terms, closing the book swiftly after she’s done and heading over to the living room.

 

It’s where her books and piano are, it’s where she’s happiest these days.  Madge doesn’t feel hungry at all, doesn’t think she can eat dinner right now.  She’ll save it for Gale, if he wants it.  He always gives what he doesn’t need to his siblings, and Madge knows he’ll have some extra room in his stomach.  Whether he’s too proud to eat it or not is another question, but maybe he’ll be in a good mood.  

 

She reads, practices a bit of piano and daydreams to kill time.  Being the mayor’s daughter sure is boring, and it’s times like these when she wishes she had a sibling, someone to confide in and spend time with for all their lives.  

 

Madge is halfway through a sonata when she hears the back door creak open, and she immediately stops playing and rushes towards the sound.

 

He’s standing in her kitchen leaning against the wall, staring at her clock.  When she arrives Gale turns to look at her, amused by her enthusiasm and smiling at her teasingly.  He’s clean, fresh looking and changed out of his mining uniform.  “Is no one home?” 

 

She shakes her head and laughs while Gale hums in approval of their situation, leaning in to encircle her waist and pull her closer.  Madge is so weak, without any resistance she practically melts into him and lets him kiss her, taking her lips gently for the first time in months.

 

“I missed you,” he whispers with his lips still grazing her mouth, and it causes Madge to turn her eyes down to the floor.  He’s lying, of course, she’s been here this whole time and he’s just chosen to not see her, Madge was not missed whatsoever.  She was deliberately blocked out, and the fact that she lets Gale use her like this makes her feel cheap.

 

But he’s just as she remembers him to be - playful and a tease yet completely overpowering and passionate.  He smells the same too, of smoke and his mother’s soap that she uses to wash all her clothes.  When he pulls at the ribbon in her hair, pocketing it and letting her locks fall down onto her shoulders, she wishes that he would stop playing games with her heart.

 

Madge puts her hands on his stubbled face to slow them down; despite the fact that they’re the only ones home, she still doesn’t want to be in her kitchen tomorrow and remember the way he kissed her.  There'd be no way she could confront her father again in the same room without becoming red faced.  But still, she lets the moment drag on for a couple of moments, just letting herself feel the way their lips interlock.

 

After a second too long, she pulls away.  “Come upstairs, okay?”

 

They walk slowly up the staircase, and Madge is self aware of the way her hips look in her skirt, how Gale might be staring at them.  The thought makes her walk a little bit faster, and soon they’re through the door of her room.  He advances quickly to switch on the lights and get his lips back onto her.

 

He backs her up onto the bed, causing her to fall backwards and be underneath him.  It makes her squeal a little bit, and Gale grins when she makes that noise.

 

“You’re so incredibly sexy, you know that Undersee?”  He sounds so certain of it all that it has to be rehearsed; Madge is a modest and shy, bookish type.  She isn’t sexy or any of the other things that Gale calls her.  Before, she’d just close her eyes and pretend she believed him, but tonight her eyes stay wide open, staring right at Gale, waiting for him to slip up and stop this facade.

 

But still, his kisses are such a welcome distraction, and when he goes back to interlocking their lips her eyelids flutter shut, letting his persistence and desire take over the both of them  Though she hates to admit it, she missed him too.  When he used to come over all the time and and unravel her, it was such a welcome distraction from the Games, their lives and the shit she had to deal with.  These past few months have been hard, harder than ever; Madge feels like she’s under a microscope for the Capitol to inspect, just waiting for her or her father to make a wrong move.

 

Soon Gale’s fingers are reaching up to unbutton her blouse, and Madge lets him with no protest.  In fact, she reaches for the hem of his shirt too, and he shrugs it off with ease before popping the last few of her buttons.  He looks gorgeous, body cut from stone and skin so tanned and Madge wants to lick it.  

 

And he’s looking at her too, mouth gaping open and staring at her breasts.  He always used to make fun of her for her fancy looking bras, but right now Gale traces the lacey patterns with his finger, bringing them up to her cleavage once he finished.

 

Gale swallows hard, looking her straight in the eyes.  “You’re perfect, Madge.”

 

She bites her tongue and tries not to object to his words, insecure about the way she looks.  To block her train of thought out she scoots up deeper into her bed and pulls Gale along with her, lips never leaving his and nipping his bottom lip with her teeth.

 

His hands wander her bare torso and move downwards, lingering at her hips and feeling them through her skirt.  It feels so good, as it should.  Gale has had more than his fair share or girls, and at the least that means that he’s experienced, good at finding all those point that make Madge moan.

 

And her room is different than the meadow.  The meadow always made Madge feel like an intruder, like someone who didn’t belong in Gale’s world of nature and comfort and wonder.  But her bed offers them a different kind of comfort, a warmth that almost feels... domestic.  Madge giggles at the thought of Gale being domesticated by anyone, knowing it’ll never be a reality.

 

A couple more minutes and her skirt is being pushed up to her waist, and Madge just savours the way his hands grope her thighs and tease small moans out of her.  To even the playing field, Madge runs her hands down his chest, scraping her nails against his sensitive skin, which makes Gale gasp.

 

“Shit, yes.  You’re such a temptress, you know that?”

 

He nibbles away at her throat, but Madge snaps out of it. She won’t take his jests any longer.  “Gale, stop.”

 

Gale immediately pulls away and look down at her thoughtfully.  “What, did I hurt you?  Are you okay with this?’

 

“I’m fine, this is fine, I just-- can you cut that out?”

 

“What?”

 

“ _ Temptress, sexy, perfect,  _ you don’t have to pretend.  I know what I am to you, but please don’t mock me like that.”

 

He pauses, brows furrowed and looking deep into her eyes as if she hasn’t just bared her heart out to him.  Madge waits for him to say something, anything, or just get up and leave.  She’s beyond embarrassed, she’s full of shame and just want him to leave now that she’s called him out and exposed him.

 

“Madge..” he finally whispers after a long time.  “What do you think you are to me?”

 

“A substitute,” she blurts out honestly, and Gale’s expression is frozen and unmoving.  “A replacement, I don’t know, Gale, but you don’t have to say things like that it doesn’t help either of us and I-”

 

“Madge don’t,” he commands.  His eyes always did remind her of a stormy cloud, but right now they look more dark and ominous than ever.  “Don’t do this to yourself, I want you in every way possible, don’t you know that?  I mean it.  You’re beautiful, don’t you know?”

 

In that moment, she wishes she did.  But she doesn’t believe him still, the idea of him saying the same things with ease to a girl on fire haunt her brain, and she knows none of this is real.  She can’t keep him (Gale Hawthorne isn’t meant to be kept by anyone).

 

He takes her obedient silence for an invitation, pressing a soft kiss to her jaw and continuing his ministrations.  And Madge lets him for a while; she tries to enjoy him, savour him, but they’ve deviated too far to pretend that tonight is like any of their other meetings.  She’s so guilty for telling him to come over, flirting with him only to break down into an emotional wreck.

 

“Wait, Gale,” she breathes out, pushing him away.  He’s off in less than a second, retracting backwards and observing her closely.  “I’m sorry, I just can’t anymore.”

 

“We all have bad days.  Don’t be sorry for anything,” he reasons gently, and Madge’s chest hurts and how sweet this boy is behind his brooding and his hard exterior.

 

But she has to contest.  “Well I really _ am _ sorry.  I know you didn’t come here to let this happen, I just can’t keep myself under wraps.  You can leave if you want, there really isn’t any reason for you to stay if you only wanted-”

 

“I only wanted to spend time with you, okay?” Gale interjects, raising his voice a little bit.  He slips on his shirt and hands Madge her blouse, sitting up from on top of her.  “I know I’ve been gone for a few months.  That’s because I still don’t know what this is, what I need from you.”

 

Madge shakes her head the slightest bit, biting back a tear.  “That’s not fair.  I can’t just wait for you to decide if you want me, I need to  _ know _ if this is worth any of my feelings.”

 

“Of course it’s worth it.  Look-- I know you’re hurt.  I’m sorry.  If I knew what this was I’d tell you, all I know is that I like you.  I like having you in my corner.”  She knows that Gale is confused too, that anything he says right now is probably just to appease her, or are claims he hasn’t thought through yet. He’s frantic, trying not to hurt her feelings, but Madge just wishes he’d be fucking honest about her.

 

All she can do is sigh.  “Do you like me because I’m  _ me  _ or because I’m always around?”

 

“It’s because you’re patient, and you’re so smart.  It makes me want to know more, you’re always hiding something underneath your smile.”  

 

Even though she agrees with those two attributes Gale has given her, she doesn’t agree at all with his assumption about their being any mystery to her.  “I think you have me mistaken for someone else.  There isn’t anything to me but this,” she admits vulnerably, motioning at her body for him to see.  “I didn’t think I could give you anything but this, and now I can’t even kiss you without losing it.  I’m telling you, please just go, you don’t have to stay.”

 

“But I will,” he decides for himself, and Madge doesn’t know how else to respond but to give him one chaste kiss on the cheek.

 

Gale doesn’t ask for anything more, nor do they let anything get too heated.  Instead, they go down to the kitchen, where Madge heats up the pea soup Lucille left for her to eat while Gale sits at the counter, talking about the mines and his family.  He keeps playing with her hair ribbon, stretching it and feeling it in between his fingers.

 

“Posy keeps getting into arguments at school,” he starts, and Madge laughs the slightest bit.  “She picks fights with all her classmates, never wants to compromise.”

 

“Arguments about what?”

 

Gale shrugs.  “Games they play in the yard, fighting over supplies, that kind of thing.”

 

“I hope she keeps that fire in her though,” she adds, thinking out loud.

 

“Hm?”

 

“I hope she keeps that fire,” she repeats.  “I want her to always fight for what she believes in, you know?  It’s so often that we just let other people take them away.”

 

It’s a dangerous thought.  One that the bugs in her house would surely not like, and Madge looks around as if she might know where they’re hidden (she has no clue) and adds, “Like, in school.  I want her to be a confident girl, I was never that.”

 

“You should be…” Gale adds, and Madge turns around to attend to the stove trying to hide her blush.  When it looks about ready, she pours it into a large bowl, placing it between the two of them sitting at the counter.

 

For moments they sit in comfortable silence, drinking the soup and and just trying to normalize the whole moment.  Everything is so odd and particularly awful lately, and Madge just wants this to be real, not just some play they’re putting on to delude themselves further.  Madge imagines that if the world was different and if she and Gale were to find each other somehow, they would be together without a doubt, nothing would be in their way.  But in reality, there are people and circumstances that make it hard, so they aren’t given the luxury of an easy relationship.

 

Soon, Madge scrapes out the bowl, spooning the remainder of the soup into her mouth.  Turns out she was more hungry than she had thoughts, and when she lowers the bowl from her face Gale is looking at her, observing her playfully.  It makes her smile in slight embarrassment.

 

“What?  Why are you staring at me?”

 

He shrugs mysteriously.  “No reason.”

 

“What?  What is it?”

 

“I just wish we could do this more often.”

 

“Do what, drink pea soup?” she asks jokingly, and Gale shakes his head while chuckling.     
  


“No.  I wish we could see each other more often, I miss being around you.”

 

She doesn’t mean to start accusing him of things again, but it just comes out.  “Then why did you not talk to me for months?”

 

Gale goes still beside her, perhaps trying to figure it out in his brain too.  After a few moments, he speaks.  “I thought it was what I wanted.  It was supposed to be what was best for me.  So I kissed her.  I did, and I wanted to, but it was different.  Not better or worse, just different.  And then I realized how much I missed you, so I came back, but I know it’s selfish, you don’t deserve this.”

 

“I don’t know why I keep letting you in,” Madge admits out loud.

 

“Me neither, but again that’s what’s so great about you.  You care so much about everyone and it makes me so--”

 

And then they hear the front door lock being fumbled with.

 

“Shit,” he grumbles under his breath, standing up from the counter and putting on his jacket which was left at the door.  Madge rushes over to tuck in his chair and scan the kitchen for any evidence of Gale being here, confirming that there’s nothing left to prove he came here and kept her company.  

 

They used to do this all the time, and Madge is surprised they still know the drill.  The backdoor is opened quieter than ever, and Gale is almost out before he hastily tries to fish something out of his pocket.  “Your ribbon, Madge, the one in your hair, its--”

 

“Keep it,” she insists, putting her hands over his and cupping the tiny red piece of silk.  Gale steps forward and catches her lips, kissing her one final time before pulling back and jogging down her porch steps.  

 

“G’night. Undersee.”

 

“Bye,” she manages to whisper before she hears her front door open.  Madge watches his stocky figure shrink smaller and smaller as he walks briskly away from her home and towards the Seam.  For a second she just leans against the wooden doorframe, dreaming about his figure coming back when her faller begins to call her name.

 

He’s calling her back to reality, but Madge doesn’t want to budge.  So she stands there and thinks about insistent eyes and soft touches and just wishes; she wishes for a day when his words are as honest as his kisses, when he says he loves her and maybe means it too.

  
  



	3. Single Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Madge and Gale share a child, but they are not together and have joint custody. A modern AU idea that I might pursue, this chapter is Rated T.

Madge Undersee jogs briskly in her painful heels down the sidewalks, into an open street where a car aggressively honks at her.  She waves in apology, but keeps walking quickly hoping she’s not running too late.  This isn’t the first time she’s been late after school in the last few weeks, and she really doesn’t want to make a bad impression on the teacher.

 

Unfortunately when she arrives in the yard of the playground, all the other parents seem to have left and she sees two figures sitting on a bench near the school entrance.  Adjusting her skirt and wind-blown hair from her run over here, she approaches them post haste.

 

“I’m so, so sorry Ms. Trinket, my meeting ran incredibly late,” Madge tries to explain, but the blonde woman shakes her head politely and shrugs it off.

 

“Don’t even worry about it, Dakota and I were just talking about what we did today, what our favourite parts were.”  Madge is so grateful that the kindergarten teacher is fine with her tardiness and doesn’t despise her child.  Johanna always jokes that it’s a good thing Kota took after her mother, and right now Madge hopes it’s true.

 

“Well?” Madge asks.  “What was your favourite part, baby?”  She’s still panting, trying to catch her breath, and when she looks down at her daughter she’s swinging her legs back and forth from the seat on the bench.

 

“Snacktime,” Dakota answers firmly, looking at Madge as if she can’t believe it’s even a question.  The two french braids she had tried so hard to put into Dakota’s hair this morning have fallen out slightly, and loose strands of thin blonde hair frame the four year old’s face.

 

Madge rolls her eyes and holds out her hand, signalling for the young girl to take it and stand up from the seat.  Instead, Kota gives her mom the little backpack she’s been carrying around, and Madge swings it over her shoulder to join her purse and duffel bag she’s been carrying as well.

 

“Alright, I think it’s time to go, KoKo,” she concludes, and Ms. Trinket stands up to in order to bid them farewell.  Madge waves goodbye.  “Thanks so much, Ms. Trinket.  You’re a lifesaver.”

 

“It’s not a problem for me, darling.  It’s my job.” Ms. Trinket explains looking down at Dakota and back up again.  “And if you’re ever running extra late, just call me or the school, I can stay back and keep her company in the classroom.”

 

“I hope it never gets to that point Ms. Trinket, but thank you for the sentiment,” Madge smiles kindly, knowing the woman really does mean it.

 

“Please call me Effie, I don’t think I can do ‘Ms. Trinket’ for another eight months,” the woman insists and Madge nods quickly, internalizing the name.  “Oh and the offer stands for her father as well, let him know.”

 

“I will, I’m dropping her off in a few actually.”

 

“Oh, alright!  Well, I’ll see you in a week then, Ms. Undersee.  Goodbye now!”

 

Madge and Dakota start walking in towards downtown, mindlessly at first, but after a few moments Kota shakes her mother’s hand, begging for attention.  “Where are we going Mama?”

 

“Well I was thinking that you’d want to go get some ice cream from the ice cream store.  The one with the cow?  And then I’ll drop you off at your Dad’s for the week.  Is that okay?”

 

Dakota scrunches her little nose.  “Dad’s?”

 

“Yup.  It’s Friday, remember?”

 

“Oh yeah,” the little girl realizes, nodding her head excitedly but then frowning the tiniest bit.  “What about my bunny?  Where is she?”

 

“Happy Bunny is in here, all of the stuff you bring back and forth are right in this bag, okay?” Madge explains, gesturing to the large blue duffle.  She had to carry the damn thing around with her all day, to work and everything.  But the look on Dakota’s face when she remembers her little stuffed friend makes it worth it.

 

“But Daddy said that _we’re_ going to eat ice cream and watch movies together, can I really have _two_ ice creams?”

 

Madge groans.  Of course, her attempt at being the better parent falls short once again.  She decides to choose her parental battles, and fighting out who gets to buy Dakota ice cream is definitely not worth the effort.  

 

“You can’t have two ice creams silly,” Madge laughs.  “You’ll have to wait until you get to your father’s then.”

 

So they walk right past the flashy ice cream parlour and Madge sighs to herself just thinking about the mint chocolate chip waffle cone she was planning to buy for herself.  It’s been such a long day at the office, and the weather outside is on the warm side even for summer.  She just wants to unwind, so with Dakota in one hand and three bags flung over her shoulder, Madge pulls out her phone and confirms her plans with Jo tonight with a text.

 

When they round the corner and arrive at the large apartment building, Madge nods her head greeting the doorman, and she nudges Dakota to do the same.  The little one complies, waving one tiny hand at him and giving him a bright smile.

 

In the elevator, Madge quietly observes her daughter as the little one leans against the glass walls and stares at her reflection in the doors.  Kota looks mesmerized, turning her head at all angles and squinting her eyes.

 

“So KoKo, I won’t see you until next Friday, okay?  Are you going to miss me?” Madge jokes.  Of course, her daughter nods vigorously and doesn’t say anything more, but Madge mostly asks the question for personal confirmation.  She wants to know that she’s doing a good job, or is at least trying to.

 

When they get to the 20th floor, Kota skips out of the elevator and knows the way to her dad’s.  Madge lags behind, and by the time she gets to the door Dakota has already knocked, waiting patiently for the door to open.

 

It takes longer than usual, and when Gale opens the door he’s in boxers and a t-shirt, hair still wet and towel draped around his neck.  His daughter extends her arms towards him, so he dips down to pick her up and give her a hug.

 

“Hey KoKo, how’s my lovely lady doing today?” he asks brightly, bouncing her up and down and causing the girl to giggle and squeal.

 

“Good, Daddy,” she replies while being placed back down on the ground.  Immediately she runs into the apartment towards her room, most likely to go play with the toys Gale kept around here.  

 

She passes him their daughter’s tiny blue backpack and the duffel that they’ve appropriately named “the weekly bag.”.  It’s not that heavy, just filled with some of Kota’s essentials, favourite toys and some shoes.  Which leaves Madge standing in front of his doorway, waiting for him to say something.  He looks tanner than when she last saw him, probably from spending busy days out surveying constructions sights.

 

“You can come in if you want, you know?” Gale teases, but Madge shakes her head.  

 

“No, I’m meeting Jo for drinks in half an hour, so I better be on my way.  If I missed packing anything in the weekly bag, just text me.”

 

“I know the drill, happens every Friday, Undersee,” he mentions offhandedly, and Madge is slightly embarrassed; she was just trying to be a helpful reminder.  

 

“Oh also, the teacher, Effie Trinket?  She told me that if you’re running late or can’t pick her up right away to just call her, because she’s offered to watch after Dakota if we need it.  Kind, isn’t she?”

 

“Uh-huh, but that won’t ever happen on my end.  Thanks, though.”  He’s being cold, he obviously is trying to point out how punctual and perfect he is.  

 

Madge sighs.  Because she doesn’t want to stand there and let Gale verbally abuse her, she begins to walk away feeling unburdened by that huge duffle and happy to only be holding her purse.  But Gale halts her, “Wait Madge, I meant to ask you something.”

 

She turns on her heels and gives him an exasperated breath  “Sure, Gale.  What is up?”

 

“My family wants to have dinner, in about two weeks time, on the Saturday.”

 

“Do you have Dakota that week?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Madge sighs, but nods. “Text me the restaurant you choose and I’ll make the reservation.”

 

“No, they um, want us to go over to the house.”

 

“What?  Why?  It’s not a holiday or anything, a restaurant in the city is convenient to me, you know that.”

 

“They don’t live that far away,” Gale points out and Madge rolls her eyes obnoxiously.  They’re both acting a bit like children, but the predicament they find themself in happens to be a childish one.

 

“You know I hate the suburbs, Gale.”  In the suburbs everything is spaced out and it feels fake.  Madge much prefers busy streets and places that are close by, walking distance for her.  A trip to the suburbs means taking a cab, which Madge would rather not pay for.

 

“Well not everyone grew up in an uptown mansion like you, Undersee,” he grumbles under his breath, and Madge takes two steps closer to him.

 

“I’m doing _you_ the favour, remember?  You’re the one who can’t bare to tell your family that we aren’t together anymore.  We haven’t been together since college, I can’t believe we’re still keeping this up.”

 

“It’s just dinner, Madge, don’t make big deal out it,” Gale points out, somehow implying that Madge has a temper.  She doesn’t, she just doesn’t know when these fake dinners and phone calls with Hazelle will end, and at this rate Gale’s mother is going to expect him to propose in the next few months.

 

In the beginning Gale’s height used to intimidate her, make her nervous or inferior somehow.  That was before they’d gotten together in college and started dating in third year.  Then his height started to comfort her, it made Madge feel protected and looked after, but ever since they split Madge is indifferent to Gale’s height.  She barely notices it anymore, and looks him straight in the face with no regard to her chin, jutted upwards to meet his eyes.

 

“I’ll be there, okay?  I’ll take a cab.”

 

“No,” he interjects.  “KoKo and I will pick you up from your place.  We can’t show up separately, Madge, are you crazy?”

 

Madge rolls her eyes again, choosing her battles for the hundredth time that day.  “Fine.  But wear something new, so we can pretend I bought it for you.”

 

“Are you coaching me on how to see my family?” Gale asks with a playful smirk, and all Madge can do is shrug, already walking away from their dysfunctional relationship.

 

“I don’t know, Hawthorne.  All I know is that this is your mess, not mine.”

 

* * *

 

 

"He's such a coward," Johanna remarks in distaste, taking another sip of beer and placing her glass down on the wooden bar table.  "I can't believe that he's been lying to his family for Kota's whole life.  That's four whole years of pretending to be a happy family."

 

"He's not a coward, it's just a lie that was taken too far for us to turn back now," Madge tries to justify.  What started as Gale not being able to bear telling his family that his perfect relationship with her had ended before Dakota was born became a complex lie about them still living together, raising her together.

 

"And you!  Why do you put up with this?  Dinner with your ex-boyfriend and the father of your child's family?  I would die.”  Johanna’s exaggerating of course.  Madge knows it’s been a long day for the both of them, and they both need to let off some steam.

 

Madge shakes her head, with no idea what to say.  "I don't know how to explain myself okay?  It's not that big of a burden, it's just dinner every few months for me."

 

"What about your kid, Undersee?  Don't you think she'd be confused if Mommy and Daddy don't live together but pretend to be in love four times a year?"  Johanna’s always been the brutally honest one, and although most times Madge appreciates it, right now she just doesn't want to hear it.  She knows no one understands her relationship with Gale, and the truth is that it's complicated, more complicated than she would like.

 

“I'm not letting this go on forever,” she promises, but her auburn haired friend raises a brow.  “Really, I won't!  I'm just doing him a harmless favour.  But when Dakota gets old enough or either of us find partners, it has to end.  I know that, Jo.”

 

“Okay,” the woman sighs, giving up on their endless argument over Gale Hawthorne.  “I just don’t want you to be pushed over.”

 

Madge appreciates her concern.  “Okay, now can we _please_ talk about something else?”

 

“Sure.  We need to paint the walls in the apartment.”

 

“Something other than our unappealing and overpriced apartment in desperate need of repair,” she begs, but in the middle of her sentence Jo strains her head to look at someone coming in through the bar door.  Then she waves, motioning the person over.

 

“Delly is here, I hope that’s okay.”

 

Madge widens her eyes in delighted surprise.  “Of course, I thought she was busy and couldn’t make it.”

 

“Change of plans,” Delly explains, coming up from behind them and offering two hugs.  “Thom is working late as always, the date was cancelled.  Anyways what are we talking about?”

 

“The apartment, some things we want to change--”

 

“We’re talking about Gale, Madge’s baby daddy who won’t stop using her,” Jo counters, clearly happy to get back to that conversation.

 

“Oh, I love Gale!” Delly exclaims naively, taking off her coat and scarf placing in on the back of the seat.  “He’s so nice and also gorgeous.  Has he got anymore tattoos lately?”

 

The redhead rolls her eyes.  “How would any of us know, Cartwright?”

 

She shrugs innocently and smiles weakly.  “I don’t know, maybe he told Madge or something.”

 

“No, the only things we talk about are his parents, my parents, and like, Dakota’s new favourite colour.”

 

Delly turns her head in curiousity.  “And?”

 

“Still love me even though they shouldn’t, still hate me even though they give me a lot of money and… orange,” Madge lists off, scrunching her nose in distaste and her daughter latest colour choice.

 

Johanna pipes up.  “Your parents are still sending you money?  Why doesn’t it show, the dryer has been broken for weeks.”

 

“It’s not for me.  It’s to send Kota to school, they didn’t want her going to an inner-city daycare.”  It’s ridiculous and overpriced, but Madge won’t object to it if her parents insist on paying for a private school.  Dakota’s school goes from preschool to grade 12, and the plan is for her to stay there based on her parents contributions.  “And we won’t fix the dryer because I calculated out the cost of getting that thing fixed.  It’s cheaper to go to the laundromat every week, our washing machine and dryer are a sham.”

 

“Um, no,” Delly responds, shaking her head.  “Baby private school is definitely more of a sham.”

 

“I’ll drink to that,” Joanna snickers, downing the rest of her beer in one go.

 

After another round and some solid conversation, Madge is warmer again and happy she decided to come out tonight.  She needed to just catch up with her best friends and let loose.  She’s so stressed out with work and Dakota all the time that sometimes she appreciates the fact that Gale takes care of their child half of the time.  It gives her some space to just put her life into perspective and concentrate on herself every now and again.

 

“Delly, how’s everything with Thom?” Madge brings up further into the night.  They’ve been dating on and off for years, and now is the most stable they’ve ever been.

 

“Okay, he’s just working a lot lately,” she nods, obviously having not given it much second thought.  It’s been smooth sailing, and no one questions their own relationship until something goes wrong anyways.

 

Johanna notices this and snorts.  “He is cheating on you, is he?”  It’s a facetious joke, but Delly laughs anyways.

 

“I’m afraid not.  Besides, whenever he gets home he’s always sore from his repair jobs.”

 

This only makes their friend widen her eyes even more and look directly at Madge.  “That’s kinky.  I wonder what he and his mistress are up to.”

 

“Shut your mouth, Mason,” Delly insists, playfully throwing a peanut at her.  Johanna just shrugs.

 

“I wish I could, but I don’t know how to.  The evidence is all there!”

 

“Okay, I think it’s time for us to head out,” Madge decides, putting on her coat and grabbing her purse.  Her friends do the same while still bickering about the silly idea of Thom cheating.  Johanna’s just jibing Delly, she likes to make people angry for fun, and Delly falls right for it every time.  

 

Delly decides to take a cab home, she lives a bit further away than Jo and Madge, and says goodbye to them as they walk out the doors.  They hug and say goodbye, planning to meet up next week to if all of their schedules permit.  Destressing at the bar with her friends is quickly becoming one of Madge’s life essentials, and she doesn’t know if she can last the week without it.

 

Which leaves the two friends walking in the summer night the few blocks it takes to get to their apartment.  They had moved in together after college for economic reasons and because of their friendship, but never did the thought of moving out ever cross their minds.  Living with a roommate is just a better way to exist for Madge; she’d go crazy if it was just her and Dakota in a place by themselves.  Johanna keeps her grounded and out of her head, and Madge keeps Johanna humble.

 

And Kota loves Johanna too.  Sometimes when Madge needs to run an errand Johanna helps to look after her daughter and they have fun times roaming around the city.  Even though Madge knows Jo takes her to places she would never think to bring her daughter - the dingy record store on Queen and to the top of a random office building to look at the view - she knows that her daughter loves it; KoKo and JoJo hitting the town together.

 

The place they share is big enough for all of them but it’s by no standard luxurious.  They pay for it with their own money, there’s no elevator or doorman like at Gale’s place, but it’s home.

 

As they trudge up the stairs, Madge lets out a big yawn that makes Johanna chuckle.

 

“God knows how you’re still awake while handling your work life, home life and romantic life all at once.”

 

“Sorry, romance?  I’m not familiar with that idea anymore…” she jokes, failing to rack her brain for the last time she was in a stable relationship.  “I have another date on Wednesday.  Hopefully it’s not pitiful and unbearable like the others.”

 

“You’re a catch, Undersee,” Johanna assures as they reach their door, fumbling with the keys.  “Where are you finding these clowns you call men?  I fail to comprehend.”

 

Madge shrugs hopelessly, entering their drafty apartment and dumping her bag on the couch.  “We’re compatible!  That’s what all the apps say.”

 

She knows that it’s unlikely she’ll find the love of her life on a dating app, but the statistics exist, surely it’s worth a shot.  Honestly, it’s just a way to convince herself she’s putting herself out there, making an effort in dating.  Madge knows Gale is seeing some girls, having his own fun, and she just doesn’t want to make it seem like she has too much on her plate to make room for romance too.

 

Madge thanks her past self for making the bed this morning and falls back onto the mattress, finally relaxing and reveling in that feeling.  Her feet have been aching all day, and she makes the mental note to buy a pair of comfortable work heels sometime soon.

 

“Do you think Gale has ruined me?” she ponders out loud, knowing that Johanna’s across the hall, starting her own nighttime ritual.

 

As expected, Jo appears at her doorway with a toothbrush in her mouth.  “Why, because you fell in love with an Adonis who’s smart, funny and everything you ever dreamed of _except_ for emotionally present and now you have to see him every week and be reminded that your expectations of love will never be fulfilled the way you imagined they were back in college?”

 

“Yeah, that,” Madge nods, contemplating her romantic future as more of a tragedy than anything else.

 

“No,” Johanna shrugs, answering her own question.  “I think that you just need a guy who will pay attention to you and understand your needs and that would be 100% better than anything that Gale gave you.  And that’s not too hard to find, Madge.  It’s just not something someone would write on their dating profile, you know?”

 

“Okay,” she concedes, putting her insecurities aside for now.  Changing into her pajamas and heading to her own bathroom she methodically washes her face and brushes her teeth, feeling more clean and less grimy than before.  

 

Madge wonders if Gale and Dakota are still up watching TV, or whether her little girl in already sound asleep in her own little blue room.  Gale had set it up for her when they started alternating weeks, when Kota no longer had to be breastfed and he insisted on moving on through the rest of their lives.

 

When KoKo’s here, she just sleeps next to Madge, snuggling up beside her and keeping her war.  Madge knows she’ll have to clean out the spare room for her someday, but Kota likes it better and frankly so does she.  Perhaps, Gale is a better parent with having fun and giving her things, but Madge would like to think that Kota knows how much her mother loves her, how much she wants her to be loved and love everyone else.

 

 _My biggest fault was never knowing how to love,_ she thinks to herself as she tucks herself in under the covers.  She was never paid attention to by her parents, she didn’t know what love was, so when Gale came around it hit her like a ton of bricks.  She fell endlessly and impossibly in love with him, and she didn’t realize that love wasn’t all it was made out to be.  Hopefully Dakota is cherished and pays it forward when she’s younger, so she’ll be smart and sparing with love when she grows up.

  
Madge can only hope, and those are her last thoughts before her busy, busy day knocks her dead.  She’s asleep in minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love modern AU's! I feel like some modern AU's just have Madge and Gale as a happy, attractive couple, and part of the reason I started writing Gadge was because I wanted more stories in the modern setting with palpable tension, argument and an upwards battle. 
> 
> With that said, this is a story idea I've been developing in my head. Is it something you'd be interested in reading? I'd start in the new year, after my Christmas fic is done for sure. I have a rough idea of where the plot will go, but nothing specific and no title I like. I would only dedicate myself to it if you guys are invested though, so let me know what you'd like to see, or if you'd read a story like this at all. Any help would be appreciated, even message me if you want!
> 
> I would want to make this a solid multi-chapter fic, longer than my other stuff so far, but only if it's something worth writing.


	4. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ex's Gale and Madge meet again after almost seven years of not talking. Rated explicit for graphic smut, and also this chapter is QUITE unbeta'd, excuse my mistakes.

It's the prospect of social contact that gets Gale to attend his high school reunion.  His last few months have been non-stop work and grueling nights at the office.  The fact that the party is happening on one of his only nights off has to be a coincidence - and that's why he's walking six city blocks to a fancy bar tonight, hoping to be able to relax and just talk to some old friends.

 

Of course, he doesn't know who's coming.  It's not one of those official reunions that happen every half a decade, but a casual cocktail social that some eager classmates like to put together.  Gale's attended a few in the past, they were always fun and the people that come are usually his old friends, people who all moved to the city and live there now.

 

When he opens the door of the uptown bar, he knows he's in the right place.  There's a tacky looking banner that welcomes their graduating class of the Twelfth County High School to the venue, and tons of familiar faces are milling about.

 

Gale debates whether to keep his coat on or not, wondering if he'll stay long enough to need to.  The decision is that he doesn't want to carry it around no matter how long he's here, and when he gives his jacket to the attendant and retrieves his ticket, he hears his name being called.

 

"Gale!  I didn't think you'd be coming, I missed you a lot man," Thom says, smiling widely and offering his best friend a hug.  They still keep in touch most of the time, but Gale knows that work has made him busy and inaccessible.

 

"Hey Thom.  Yeah, finally got a night off."

 

"Good, awesome.  That's awesome to hear.  You coming in?" his friend offers, leading him into the crowd of alumni and away from the entrance.

 

They make a beeline for the bar, where apparently one of their classmates has generously paid for an open bar and free drinks for all.  So Gale happily treats himself to scotch on rocks, hoping it'll make the conversation flow.

 

"How's the last few months been for you Thom?" he asks, wondering how his friend is doing.  Last time he heard he was working at a bike shop, helping with repairs and rentals somewhere downtown.

 

"Not bad at all.  I got promoted to manager at the shop, I just love working there, it's fun for sure."

 

"Didn't you say you wanted to open up your own place?"

 

"Yeah," Thom assures, nodding passionately.  "Obviously not yet, but soon, when I save up the money."

 

Gale understands all too well, the struggle to follow your passions and still put food on the table, but he doesn't acknowledge it.  "Manager, huh?  And you have time to make it here tonight?"

 

"Of course I do," he scoffs.  "And besides, I'm going for Cartwright.  You know that."

 

"When are you not going for Cartwright?" Gale chuckles, looking over at the blonde woman.  Thom and Delly never really dated back in school, but Gale knows that they fooled around a lot.  They were never part of the same crowd or cared to admit it.  And right now Thom tries to make it sound like a rare occurrence, but Gale knows better.  They're both living in the city and neither of them are seeing anyone else, which only means that they're still fucking.  "You practically drool over her every time you see her."

 

"Shut your mouth, Hawthorne," his best friend retorts never trying to make eye contact with him.  He doesn't deny anything, but Thom begins to walk away towards his special friend, unable to look away from her.  "Okay I'm going to leave you with the only person who can stand you, yourself."  

 

He's kidding, Gale knows.  But as Thom lurks away Gale's sitting by the bar by himself, staring down at his drink and thinking about the past.  For a few minutes he just drinks his scotch, savouring it a little bit but eventually downing it in one go.  When he winces at the sting, he feels someone tap him on the shoulder.

 

"Gale Hawthorne, is that you?" the girl asks.  Her hair is a reddish brown and too long, and Gale's first thought is that he doesn't recognize her at all.  He didn't talk to many people in high school, even if apparently everyone knew who he was.  It happens often enough, so Gale just nods and smiles back.

 

"Hey, how are you?"

 

"I'm good, I haven't been to one these things ever.  I don't think I've seen you since Grade 12 Spanish."  That explains why she seems familiar, but Gale still can't put a name to her face.  At least it's not his fault, he hasn't seen her in almost six years.  The girl keeps talking.  "What about you?  Do you work in the city?”

 

"Yeah, I'm at an architecture firm, a junior partner."

 

"That's impressive, I never pinned you for the architecture type," she critiques.  Well of course she didn't pin him for any type, she probably didn't really know anything about him.

 

The conversation lingers on, mostly superficial questions and one word replies from Gale's end.  He's barely listening to her ramble on about her life and her dog when he sees a flash of blonde come through the entrance, and he knew that tonight might've been a bad idea.

 

The brunette notices that he zoned out, turning her head to look too.  "Oh, it's Madge.  You guys used to date, didn't you?"

 

Gale doesn't need to answer to let her know that it's true.  The way he's looking at Madge now could burn through buildings if he tried.  He hasn't talked to her since the summer of graduation, since their relationship fizzled out.  But tonight she's everything he missed all these years, long legs and timid smiles that do something in his chest.  It hurts but speeds up too, and Gale panics.

 

“I’m sorry, I need to go.  It was nice talking to you…” he starts, hesitating to say a name.  The girl is offended, he knows because her face is one of disappointment and blatant indifference.

 

“Beth.”  Beth.  Sounded familiar, but Gale never would’ve been able to guess.  He wants to apologize for that too, but instead he gives her one last nod and shuffles off.

 

He isn’t looking for Madge.  In fact, it’s the opposite.  He sees her walking towards Delly and a couple others, so he scurries to the other side of the room where she wouldn’t bump into him.  It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to her all night - he does - but he hasn’t prepared for this, doesn’t have the words to say.

 

To say that Gale has unresolved feelings would be a gross understatement.  High school relationships weren’t always meant to last, and in the beginning they had just been that.  Sweethearts that met at lunch and went to prom together.  They did talk all the time and Gale felt closer to her than anyone else in his last year of school, but when graduation came around Gale felt like he was falling in love at the same time Madge was falling out.  He ended things amicably before they left for university with empty promises to remain friends and catch up.

 

And now everything Madge had stirred up inside him is bubbling up to the surface again; he remembers the things they used to tell each other, her perfume and the way she used to kiss him.  He wants to catch up with her and wants to know what she’s been up to - just not yet.

 

So he retrieves his jacket and goes outside to have a smoke, something that he should really stop doing but is too busy to give quitting a second thought.  It used to be just something he did in high school to try it out, but now when he’s stressed or uncomfortable, he finds a reason to escape and smoke one cigarette.

 

The air is chilly and Gale’s glad he brought his jacket.  Not only because of the temperatures, but because honestly he’s ready to leave.  It’s been a long day, all his friends that are here seem preoccupied and to top it all off, Madge is here making his head spin.

 

But before he can start walking away, he hears the doors of the bar open, and Madge walks out hastily.  Her hair is in bouncy curls that are incredibly shiny in the lights of the city, and her coat is on too.  She doesn’t notice Gale standing off to the side, Madge is too busy rummaging through her bag to notice.

 

Gale lets her go on for a second more, but he’s amused, intrigued and nostalgic all at once.

 

“Lost something?”

 

Her head turns and she takes a deep inhale, giving him a warm smile back.  “Hey,” she breathes out, barely able to contemplate him in front of her.  Madge looks as if she’s seen a ghost, a part of her past she never thought she’d meet again.  “I can’t find my phone, I need to call a cab to find my way home.”

 

“Cool,” he responds dully, and Madge realizes how casual they’re being, how casual it shouldn’t be.  They haven’t spoken in six years and it’s not like their relationship ended on a good note.

 

“How are you, Gale?”

 

“I’m okay, I haven’t seen you since…”

 

“Since I left for Paris,” she finishes, nodding in agreement.

 

“So much for keeping in touch, right?” he asks snidely.  Madge just sighs.

 

“You know that neither of us meant that, Gale.  We’d just broken up, why would I keep in touch with you?  To make it even harder to get over you?”

 

She makes a valid point.  Why would she continue to text him or call when he was the one who wanted to end things?  It was Gale who decided that she was too good for him, and that their relationship only worked in high school.  Naturally, he’d also be the only one to care apparently.

 

He dismisses her question, they both know the answer anyways, and he moves on with their conversation.  “How’ve you been?  I didn’t know you were living in the city.”

 

“I’m not,” she laughs.  “I’m only here for a couple nights, I’m touring with an orchestra.  I thought I’d stop by and say hi to some of you guys.”

 

“And?”

 

She just shrugs.  “I hated high school.  But it was never because of the people.  I’m glad I came around here, it’s crazy to learn where everyone is now.”

 

“Yeah, I guess,” he responds, knowing that high school wasn’t the best place for anyone.  It forced them to grow up too fast in ways they didn’t want and forced them to stay children when everyone just wanted to break free.  He comes to these mixers so often, so the life updates are more frequent, less jarring than Gale would imagine they are for her.

 

“You look good,” Madge comments, and Gale nods indifferently, knowing he’s changed quite a bit.  He wears suits now everyday, and his hair is shorter than he used to like it.  He also goes to the gym everyday he can, so he’s no longer a lanky teen who did a couple of pushups in the morning.  

 

“Thanks.  You do too,” he offers, knowing that Madge is well aware she looks flawless tonight.  Her dress is modest and classy, but Gale can see her pale collarbones and suddenly he has the irrational need to kiss them.  And her makeup makes her look a little different too; Madge has a dark shadow painted onto her lids and it makes her look mysterious, and dare he mention sexy.

 

Maybe she feels the air hanging heavy around them too, because she coughs and motions to the lighter he’s been playing with.  “I didn’t know you still do that.”

 

“Me neither,” he shrugs jokingly, and Madge laughs in a way that Gale didn’t know he missed so much.  She’s light, everything he needs right now and more.  But he doesn’t know how to convey that, how to tell her that he wants more without sounding like he yearns for something that no longer exists.  He doesn’t want her because they dated in high school, he wants her because she’s amazing, and he was too dumb to see that before.

 

“Sorry, I’ll let you go now,” he says mid chuckle.  Madge looks taken aback, but he reminds her why she was outside to begin with.  “You were trying to hail a cab weren’t you?”

 

“Oh yeah,” she says, sighing at her own absentmindedness. “I don’t know the city that well, I’m staying at the Radisson.”

 

“The Radisson?  That’s right around the corner,” he explains, recalling the downtown hotel.  Madge was never too good with directions, and probably wasn’t paying attention on the way over here.  It’s almost too perfect, and he doesn’t want to be the one to say it first, but Madge looks at him in a way that makes him certain she knows what they both want.

 

“Wow, okay.  Were you planning on sticking around here longer, or do you think you could walk me there?  You could come up for a bit, catch up.  I missed you.”

 

He doesn’t know if it’s true or not, but Gale gladly walks down the city block as an answer, and Madge walks quickly to catch up to him.  He sees her smiling into the collar of her hood, and for a second it almost feels like old times, sneaking away from class to steal a kiss or just talk when things were bad.  When they first met they didn’t always get along, but by the end Gale knew Madge like the back of his hand.  He knows that she feels the same, and they both want to get something out of this.

 

Her hotel room is a suite, it’s spacious and well furnished, and Gale sees a cello case sitting in the corner.  Madge started picking up different instruments all throughout high school, and she was a natural at all of them, of course.  He assumes the orchestra she’s touring with needs her on strings, but if she needed to Madge could really do it all.

 

“So what have you been up to?” Madge asks politely, grabbing two glasses and filling them with water.  When she hands one over to him Gale shrugs, trying to think of something interesting in his boring life.  He sheds him blazer and places it on the counter.  “Is architecture treating you well?”

 

“Sure, I’m junior partner now at a firm I’ve been at for a couple years.  I like it a lot.”

 

“You seem tired,” she comments, and of course Madge knows him too well.

 

“Well I like it, except for the hours, I suppose.  People who aren’t in charge get delegated a lot of busy work, that part’s not too fun.”  Madge looks so genuinely interested and captured by his life, so he’s urged to go on.  “But I’ve been leading a project on my own, actually.  We’re transforming an old fire station into an office building over on the west side.”

 

“That’s amazing.”

 

“Not as amazing as touring the world, I don’t think.”

 

“It poses it’s own set of problems,” she states simply, gesturing at the lifeless hotel room she’s staying in.  Gale assumes her life for the past few weeks have been endless crowds and cities and hotel rooms just like this one, and he supposes there is some kind of plus side in having stability.  What he means by bringing it up though is not that, it’s the fact that Madge is endlessly talented and could do anything if she tried.  Gale just clinged to the one thing he found he was good at, and now he’s milking it for what it’s worth, trying to find any sort of success. 

 

“I visited home two days ago, though,” she mentions passively, but Gale’s ears perk up.  “I visited the school too.  It was crazy to see some of the teachers and just walk through the halls, you know?  But do you remember the classroom on the second floor?  The one where we used to…”

 

The one where they used to kiss and never get caught.  Gale can remember everything about that classroom, it was never used for instruction and wasn’t renovated with the others a couple years before then.

 

“They fixed it, it’s a study space now, or something.”  Gale chuckles at the idea, and Madge can’t seem to help but laugh along too.  It’s a fond memory, one that they both remember well.  There was nothing he looked forward to more than kissing Madge Undersee senseless during their free period.

 

“Are you seeing anyone?” he asks out of the blue.  It’s a question that seems random, but Gale’s not an idiot.  He knows the only reason why Madge would bring him here, why they’re bothering with any of this small talk.

 

She shakes her head coyly though, playing up the excuse.  

 

So Gale takes a step towards her, filling the gap a little bit so that he can see her face more clearly.  It’s the dusting of freckles that you can only see close up and the way that her eyes twinkle that make him miss her the most.  “I guess performing makes it hard, eh?  So how long has it been since you--”

 

“Too long,” she nods urgently, grabbing his tie and pulling him in, tasting him for the first time in years.

 

The way she moves her lips makes him groan, and Gale doesn’t know what else to do but blindly follow as Madge leads him into the bedroom, lips never leaving hers.  For a few moments they just stand there at the foot of the bed, hands wandering and eyes closed.

 

Madge is just short enough for Gale to be hunching his back slightly, but when hers arms come up around his neck and pull him in closer, they’re frantic for more friction, more speed.  So Gale picks up her by the legs and drops her on the bed beneath him, which causes Madge to laugh in surprise and because of the playfulness of this whole thing.  Them hooking up is more than just for old times sake, for one night Gale just needs to let go and feel something more for once.

 

The sleeves of her dress have ridden down her shoulders, so when Gale tugs them further down Madge is more than happy to oblige, lifting her body slightly for the garment to come right off.

 

Gale is stunned when he sees that under her simple dress is the sexiest little set of lingerie he’s ever seen.  Madge is a bombshell in all black lacy fabric, with garters and tights included.  Madge has always been the type to keep these kinds of little secrets to herself, and he can’t stop staring for a second.

 

She’s soft and it makes him swallow in anticipation.  Madge has pretty curves in all the right places, and there’s nothing more perfect than the way she looks in her sexy lingerie set and her smokey eyes.  Except then when he drops a kiss behind her ear, sucking gently, and she lets out a breathy moan and pulls him in tighter Gale knows that he’s done for.

 

Her nimble fingers are pulling at his tie and undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one, and when the last one pops open Gale gladly shrugs it off.  Then he hears her gasp audibly and wonders if something's the matter, until Madge begins to trace patterns on his arm, then he knows.

 

“You got a tattoo,” she states as a matter of fact, biting her lip.

 

“Yeah, do you like it?” Gale asks with genuine curiosity, observing her acute reaction.  His tattoo is a scenery; the woods, the night sky and the stars fit into a decent sized circle on the inside of his upper arm.  It reminds him of home, keeps him level headed when things get crazy.

 

Madge almost look speechless with silent tension, but then she throws her head back onto the pillow, closing her eyes and laughing at herself.  “Oh my fucking god, Gale,” she cries out, and Gale scrunches his eyebrows together.  He knows some girls don’t like ink, maybe don’t get the whole idea of marking your skin.

 

“What?”

 

“Your body.  It… does things to me.  So stupid.”  It sounds ridiculous, but he gets it.  It’s an admission he’d never thought he’d hear out of Madge Undersee’s lips, but it’s so honest and true, she turns red in embarrassment.  But Gale doesn’t poke fun.  He’s just happy the feeling’s mutual, and that parts of him make her lusty with want too.  

 

So he starts to kiss her again, frantic and insistent in a way that makes them both smile and moan at the feeling of skin against skin.  She feels good, too good, and Gale feels a small wave of jealousy pass over him thinking about the other guys Madge has had since him.

 

But Madge’s hands move to his crotch, feeling his already hard outline and trying to find his fly, and all thoughts of other people disappear from his mind.  He can only think about her hands stroking him through his pants and the hungry expression on her pretty little face.

 

“Get these off,” she commands quietly, biting her lip and resisting a smile.  “Please.”

 

Madge has always been so fucking polite, and Gale is more than happy to oblige.  His belt and dress pants come off in record time, and right as he tosses them on the floor Madge’s hand is back on his cock, stroking him through his boxers.

 

He always felt that Madge had an innocent smile but seducing eyes.  She’s doing it right now, that thing where she looks at him like there’s nothing else in the world that she needs more than his throbbing dick hard in her hand.

 

“Shit, Madge,” he curses under his breath, and Madge gets up and motions him downwards so that his back is on the bed.  The hotel sheets are still tucked in and untouched.

 

Her hands are playing with the waistband of his underwear as she hovers over him, dropping a kiss on his stomach and making a trail south.  Gale can’t do anything to help the groan that erupts from his throat when Madge pulls the boxers all the way down, letting him spring free.  

 

The air gives a cold sensation but it’s soon replaced with the warmth of her hand, stroking him from base to tip.  Madge’s eyes are trying to meet his, searching for confirmation to go on, and Gale can only nod with droopy eyelids, half closed with pleasure.

 

Soon they shut completely and Gale just tries to  _ feel _ her, memorize the way her skin feels against his, the way she touches him.  He’s barely gotten reaquainted with the feeling of her hand when he feels a warm wetness surrounding his tip, and when his eyes open suddenly Madge’s mouth is on him, sucking and teasing his tip with that fucking coy smile.

 

She goes further and further down, and Gale’s never been harder than right now.  Something about her intricate lingerie and the wet sounds she’s making feels like every fantasy he’s ever had meshed into one.  A couple of curls fall in front of her face and Gale holds them back; he needs to see her, and Madge smiles appreciatively with her eyes.

 

“Fuck, you’re incredible, just like that please.”

 

It feels so good he could burst.  But he won’t, nor does he want to.  He retracts a little bit, which causes Madge to stop with wide eyes, thinking she's done something wrong.  She raises herself so she’s on her knees, and Gale does the same so that they're upright, facing each other on the bed.

 

“What's the matter?” she asks, but Gale just tucks a strand of hair behind her ears and kisses her softly.  

 

“Nothing,” he whispers against her lips.  “I want more of you.”

 

His lips drop to the skin above her chest, kissing along her collarbones and shoulders like he promised himself he would.  Her skin is salty with sweat, but he smells her perfume, something rich and floral that on any other girl would be too much, but suits Madge just right.

 

When his kisses make their way back up to her jaw and around her lips, Gale brings his hands around her body to undo the clasp of her lacy bra.  There's a moment of hesitation, one where Madge cups the flimsy thing to her body almost afraid to let go.  Gale wishes she knew that he thinks her body was made for him, and there isn't a single inch that he doesn't adore, especially not her pert breasts.  

 

With a small tug Gale lets the lingerie fall from her hands, and he dips down to kiss the tops of her breasts, sucking on the soft skin in a way that makes her gasp.  When he pulls away there's a small pink welt forming on her décolletage, and Gale smirks and gives it a peck, content with the fact that it was his doing.

 

Her nipples are a dusty pink colour and when Gale laps at one gently, sucking it in his mouth and groping the other breast, Madge just about falls apart.  She leans against him and pulls his head closer to her body.  The way her fingertips feel scraping against his scalp makes him weak, and he continues his ministrations just to hear her moan, feeling her nipples harden between his lips.

 

Gale’s kisses trail downwards, across her smooth stomach and at her garter belt.  When his hands come down to grope her cheeks she thrusts forward, trembling in anticipating.  Gale begins to slide her underwear down, intent on tasting her when she tugs his head and shakes her own.

 

“Please, I can’t wait any longer,” she whispers, embarrassed by how dizzy she feels from his touch.  And Gale is more than happy to oblige.  He drops a kiss on her lips, and then a few more, then Madge scurries quickly to the bathroom to get a condom.

 

She comes back and tosses it to Gale.  He carefully tears the package, rolling the condom on and pinching the tip.  When he’s done he looks up and Madge’s panties are off but she still has those fucking stockings on with the garters and all, and she’s got her hands on the bed frame kneeling, facing away from him.  It makes groan; he was thinking of a more classic position like missionary, but clearly Madge knows what she wants and intends to get it. 

 

He comes up from behind her and gives her ass a squeeze, using his other hand to bring her hair to one side so he can see her face.  Madge is biting her lip, gazing back at him and nodding her head eagerly.

 

Gale brings his fingers down to her wetness, teasing her entrance and pressing lightly on her clit.  Madge squirms, inhaling sharply and moaning afterwards.

 

“Are you ready?” he asks softly, giving his cock a couple of lazy strokes in his hand.

 

“Of course,” Madge insists.  “I missed you so much.”

 

So Gale lines them up and begins to push in, savouring the way Madge feels around him.  She’s so fucking tight and hot, he can’t remember the last time he needed a person so much.  Madge’s face is strained with pleasure, and he can tell she’s holding her breath too.

 

He’s almost bottomed out when he kisses her neck, trying to cover all the delicate skin that he hasn’t yet touched.  When Gale thrusts all the way in and sucks on one spot extra hard, Madge just about screams.

 

“Oh my god, you’re so good,” she moans, grinding her little ass into his hips trying to get more friction.  Gale’s hands come around to hold her belly so he has better grip, and Madge brings her own soft hands over his, assuring him of his actions.  “Please fuck me,” she whispers lewdly, eliciting a moan from Gale when he begins to fuck her proper.

 

The movements are hot and purposeful, slow methodical thrusts that make Gale’s stomach clench every time he thrusts in.  Madge feels impossibly tight and he can’t help but silently curse at how long it’s been since he’s gotten laid.  His hand will never compare to Madge’s pretty little pussy lips, or her luscious hair that smells like honey or her soft, pale skin blushing under his gaze.  

 

The minx he’s taking from behind is nothing like the Madge Undersee he dated in senior year, but maybe she was always this way, he was just too dumb to see it.  But the sounds she makes are exactly the same, loud, whimpering bursts of motivation or expletives every time he draws back.

 

They continue that way for sometime, until Gale decides he wants to see her writhe and scream.  One of his hands come down to cup her heat, rubbing slightly and finding her sensitive clit.  Just as anticipated, Madge gasps in pleasure and begins to meet his thrusts more so that her ass cheeks bounce against Gale’s groin with every thrust.

 

Gale brings his lips to her ear and he rubs more diligently, nibbling on her lobe.  “You’re so fucking sexy, Undersee.  Stockings, really?  You don’t even know what that does to me, how it makes me so hard to take you like this.”

 

Madge is incoherent, sputtering what sounds like a phrase that Gale can’t make out.  “M-my stockings do the same to you as - fuck! Gale. just like that - as your tattoo does for m-me.”

 

It’s such a cute thing to remember when a man is fucking you slow from behind, and Gale rewards her with more kisses along her throat, rubbing her bud with more vigor and added pressure.

 

“I want to see you come, could you do that for me baby?”

 

Madge is biting her lip when she gives a silent nod, she looks like she’s been wound up so tight up to this point and now Gale wants to see her come undone.  The thrusts become faster and more frantic, and Gale turns Madge’s bead so that he can look into her eyes and kiss her.  Though it’s barely a kiss, they don’t move their tongues or lips, but they moan and sigh against each other’s mouths.

 

It only takes a few more pumps for Madge to cry out, tightening around him and closing her eyes shut to concentrate on the pleasure.  Gale fucks her hard all the way through her orgasm, and soon Madge pulls his hand away from her cunt to his surprise.

 

“I’m too sensitive,” she pants.  “You’re close, right?”

 

Gale can only nod shortly, feeling his balls tightening preparing for his release.

 

“Come on my breasts, please Gale.”

 

It’s such a lewd request, one that Gale could only fantasize she’d be into.  But Madge has said the words, she’s been taking everything she’s wanted all night, and Gale knows her request is not for him but for herself when he pulls out and flips her over.  Madge’s fingers go back to rubbing her pussy, and Gale scoffs to himself.   _ Too sensitive. _

 

Gale comes with just a few strokes of his hand, spilling onto her pale peaks and taut nipples.  Madge must’ve achieved some sort of second orgasm just from touching herself, because she’s still moaning loudly, and they groan in unison savouring the sensation.

 

In the silence of their afterglow, Gale collapses beside her on the bed, failing to catch his breath or fathom what just happened.  Madge is everything he remembered and more, she’s assertive and alluring and they always have so much fun when they’re together.

 

“I’m going to shower quickly,” Madge whispers snuggling closer to him, and Gale presses a kiss on her forehead and nods in response.

 

When the water begins to run in the bathroom, Gale disposed of the condom and cleans himself off slightly.  He picks up his clothes where they left them on the floor and caught between the sheets and drops them into a singular pile.. He has no intention of putting any of them on except for his boxers, and gets right back into bed waiting for Madge to finish showering.

 

It’s a quick shower, like she promised.  When Madge comes out with her hair tied up and she’s in a bathrobe, Gale can’t help but notice how beautiful she looks.  She make her way over to him and Gale sits up, kissing her chastely until she pulls away.

 

“So you’ll be on your way then, right?”

 

“What?”  It takes him by surprise, he was planning on sleeping beside her for a little longer, aftercare is one of his favourite parts of sex.

 

“Sorry, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.  You can stay if you’d like,” she offers, but obviously Gale isn’t going to stick around if she’s so blatantly expressed her desire for him to leave.  “I have a flight in the morning.”

 

Gale’s stomach drops when he remembers that Madge is leaving.   They’re in a fucking hotel room after all.  He’s frustrated, a bit angry at her for saying she missed him while she gets to leave.  He reaches for his pants and slips them on, dressing himself quickly while Madge just stares.

 

“Please don’t be mad at me, but you knew that this couldn’t be anymore than what we’ve done.”

 

“Yeah of course, I’m not asking you to marry me after fucking you once,” he retorts defensively.  “But we’re more than just a one night stand, we know each other.”

 

“Which is exactly why I need you to go.  If you stay I’ll convince myself that this could actually work.”

 

“Why is that a bad thing?” he asks, pacing towards her and putting a finger on her chin.  But Madge turns away.

 

“Because you hurt me, Gale.”

 

“What do you mean?  We dated when we were seventeen, sure.  But that didn’t mean anything, it wouldn’t mean as much as right now and--”

 

“That’s bullshit, Gale.  You know I loved you, it meant something to me.  I loved you more than anything.”

 

They’d always say it, but when Madge confessed those words to him they had weight, meaning.  Gale hates to be rehashing their breakup right now, but it matters.  It matters because he wants to see her again.

 

“Why did you break up with me?” Madge asks desperately, sitting down on the bed.  “I know it was because of Katniss, even though we were going strong you still had unresolved feelings for her.”

 

“What the fuck are you talking about, Madge?  I didn’t break up with you because of Katniss.  Is that what you’ve been thinking for the past six years?”  It hurts him to know that Madge thought that little of him, that she’s spent all this time thinking he didn’t love her back.  “I ended things because you were going to  _ Paris _ .  You were always meant to be more than that town, and I was attending the local college while you went off to become a world class musician.”

 

“So you did it for your pride?”

 

“No.  I mean, sure, I don’t know.  I’m a far from perfect guy.  The point is you were going to be amazing, follow your dreams.  I was holding you down.”

 

Madge kisses him then, maybe because she doesn’t want to hear his words anymore, or perhaps to thank him.  Gale knows she would’ve done anything for him, the same was true for vice versa.  They kiss with more purpose and more passion, and it’s the closest thing to an apology that either of them will receive.

 

“I’ll leave,” he mutters.  “I need to anyways.”

 

Madge nods in understanding.  She probably doesn’t want to say anything that will break their fragile agreement, they’d both rather end on a good note.  “Goodbye, Gale.”

 

“Find me when you’re in town,” he pleads uselessly, knowing Madge won’t be back around here in quite some time.  But she nods again and gives him a soft smile, walking him to the door..  She pecks him on last time on the cheek as he walks out of the suite and into the quiet halls.

 

And everything is uncertain, and volatile and cloudy with emotion.  But Gale wouldn’t expect any less from Madge Undersee. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gale and Madge as ex's are one of my favourite things. It's like the contemporary version of Post-Mockingjay, I think. At this point I think I've milked the cow for what it's worth though, so if you like Gale and Madge as ex's too let me know!
> 
> Did you like it? Tell me what you think, I really do love hearing your opinion.


	5. Teachers: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're teachers at the same school who buy each other coffee, leave notes for each other and call. But they're not dating - no way. (This one's rated G)

The students chatter excitedly in the classroom, and for the upteenth time in her Tuesday first period class, Madge wishes she hadn’t skipped coffee this morning.  She’d been in too much of a rush to make it in time and didn’t bother to stop by Sae’s and now she completely regrets the decision.  Her head is aching and her body feels so weak, lethargic almost.

 

She concentrates and looks up at the kids.  “Alright everyone, so I’m going to use my fingertips to cover each of these holes, and when I hold and blow in different combination, they make different sounds.”

 

“Wait, Ms. Undersee, I have a question!” a little student shouts, raising his hand as high as he can reach and shaking it vigorously.

 

Madge sighs and nods her head with encouragement from the front of the room, as a teacher should when she’s surrounded by restless fifth graders.  “Yes, Jonah?”

 

“I think my recorder is broken.  When I blow into it, it sounds bad, like this!”  Jonah blows into the recorder and lets out a loud, pitched screech that makes the rest of the class cringe.

 

“Okay, well I think you could blow a little more gently, like this,” Madge explains, giving her own instrument a small toot.  “And when you’re fiddling with the holes, make sure you’re covering each one completely.  If you don’t the notes won’t sound too nice.”

 

She goes through some basic notes and combination with the students, answering all ridiculous questions and cries for help.  Sometimes Madge thinks they’re doing it on purpose; distracting her and trying to veer the lesson off track.  But Madge loves it, she really does, she misses being in grade school and loves that she can be part of it.

 

After a few more moments there’s a knock on her classroom door, and Madge has a feeling about who it might be.  “Class, I’m going to see who’s at the door but I need all of you to practice, okay?  I’m going to be listening to all your C Major scales when I come back!”  

 

When she gets to the door and slips out, she looks up and smiles coyly, aware of how windblown she looks.

 

“Hi Mr. Hawthorne.”

 

“Hey Ms. Undersee,” Gale grins back, still in his coat and scarf.  For a few seconds Madge just admires her view, because it’s unfair how good her colleague looks in dark jeans, a dress shirt and a pair of black rimmed glasses.  He holds out a cup of coffee to her, snapping her out of her trance.  “I saw you running in late this morning, thought you’d want a coffee.”

 

“Thanks so much, is it-”

 

“Two sugars and a splash of soy.  I got you,” he responds quickly, and Madge is impressed with how he remembers that.  She takes the steaming cup and just smells it, loving the heavenly smell of a dark roast.

 

“I hope it wasn’t too much of a hassle, I promise it won’t become habit.  I need a louder alarm…”

 

“It’s fine, Madge.  I don’t mind.”  Gale shrugs, “Gives me a reason to bother you in the morning.”

 

She blushes and her heart skips a beat.  Madge tries to be as professional as possible at work, but sometimes Gale makes that so hard.  He’s always giving her looks and slipping her poorly written jokes in her office mailbox, and sometimes they’re the last ones in the staff room at night grading quizzes and takes longer than they need to because she can’t stop talking to him.  He’s distracting  and he’s gorgeous, and Madge needs to stop herself from falling head over heels because Gale’s doing nothing to prevent it.

 

Gale hears the incessant ruckus coming from the class and narrows his eyes.  “Recorder?  Really?”

 

“Sure, it’s a great stepping stone to more complicated woodwinds, you know?”

 

“Are they fifth graders in there?” he asks, and Madge nods.  “I like it when you teach the sevens keyboard.  Because when you demo a piece to them, I can hear you all the way from my office.”

 

It’s a compliment that Madge doesn’t trust herself to respond to, so she goes back to what she’s good at: polite conversation.  “So, how’s math these days?”

 

“Amazing, today we’re learning about triangular numbers.”

 

“I don’t think I remember what those are,” Madge admits truthfully.  She’d always been indifferent to math and science, never paid too much attention in class, just enough to pass.  Gale is hovering over her as she leans against the doorframe, and she curses how often they end up in situations like these.

 

“At all?” he chuckles.

 

“No. Nothing.”

 

“Come out for dinner with me tomorrow and I can teach you,” he offers confidently, and Madge just about loses her mind.  Gale’s asked her out before, she’s always politely declines, and he’s always been completely fine with it.  It confuses her as to why he would keep trying with a lost cause like her.

 

“Gale, you know I can’t…”

 

“Why?  Because of Coin?”

 

He  _ knows _ it’s because of Principal Coin.  That woman declared war on all teacher relationships, and according to the teacher contracts Madge would have to fill out all these forms and take part in  these interviews, not to mention all the gossip that would spread throughout the school.

 

“Yeah, that.  And I’m busy as hell, tomorrow is no good.”

 

“Alright, that’s okay,” Gale responds, smiling sadly to himself.  “I’ll wait for you.  I have a class to teach second period, I’m going to get going then.”

 

“Okay,” she breathes out, forever shocked at how calmly he takes the rejection.  “Goodbye, Gale.  Thanks for the coffee.”

 

“Bye Madge, it’s my pleasure.”

 

He’s walking away slowly to his office down the hall when she calls out one last time.  “Gale!  Why will you wait?  You’ve been waiting for almost a year, I’m not worth it, I promise.”

 

Gale shakes his head and laughs.  “Of course you’re worth it, Undersee.”

 

Madge doesn’t get it, but she’s biting her lip and feels the need to run after him.  Of course she doesn’t, she has a class to teach and a job to keep.  So she sighs in hopelessness, reentering the classroom and checking on her students’ progress.

 

“Ms. Undersee, who was that?” Jonah asks as soon as she’s back in.

 

Madge is about to make something up when another student, Ember, interrupts.  “It was Mr. Hawthorne, the math teacher.  He teaches me, that’s how I know.”

 

Jonah puts down his recorder and scrunches his face with confusion.  “Why did Ember’s math teacher come to the music room?”

 

“Look, Ms. Undersee has a drink now!” someone pipes up from the back of the class.

 

“Is it coffee, Ms. Undersee?” Ember asks knowingly.  “Coffee is bad for you, that’s what my dad says.  It rots your brain.”

 

Madge clears her throat and ignores the chirping from her students.  “Can anyone play a scale for me now?”

 

* * *

 

 

At the end of another long day, Madge turns off the light in her classroom and heads towards the main office.  She checks her mailbox absentmindedly, but feels around and finds a half sheet of paper.  On the front is a blank set of division drills with today’s date on them, and when she turns them over she tries to hold in her laughter, barely succeeding.

 

It’s a sloppy doodle of Principal Coin, fuming with devil horns.  It’s left uncaptioned, except for the time he drew it scribbled in the corner.  Fourth period – Gale mentioned something about his class writing a test today, and he probably had some time to kill.

 

Madge files the drawing into her purse, knowing that she’ll put it with all the others once she gets home.  She’s terrible, she does nothing to stop his advances because she can’t help herself.

 

“Heading out, Madge?” she hears icy and monotone behind her, and Madge practically jumps.  She makes sure Gale’s picture is tucked far inside her purse where it can’t be seen and turns around to face her boss.

 

“Yes, just about.  See you tomorrow, Alma.”

 

“Are you interested in coordinating the Spring Concert?” she asks out of nowhere, making Madge widen her eyes and nod.  She had been new last year and wasn’t trusted enough to take on that kind of responsibility.  “Good, we need young teachers like you doing more around the school.  People like you, Ms. Cresta, Mr. Hawthorne.  It’s refreshing, isn’t it?”

 

“Indeed, I think we all provide a new perspective that could be used.”  The three of them have formed a sort of pact to defend each other to the older staff, but seldom do they receive this kind of praise from the principal herself.

 

“Okay, I’ll send you some of last year’s planning information for the concert, I look forward to it very much.”

 

“Me too Alma, thanks a lot,” Madge responds genuinely, and she leaves the school feeling a lot better than she has in a long time.

 

Finally, she has something to really look forward to at work.  And on top of that, all the stoplights seem to turn green as she approaches them on her drive back home, where there’s a chicken pasta that she threw into the slow cooker this morning waiting for her and a new bottle of chardonnay chilling in her fridge.  Some people would argue that adulthood is boring, but Madge has never had more fun with her independence than right now.

 

Dinner is delicious, as she suspected.  The wine pairs well with the creamy noodles, and when she finishes her glass halfway through the meal she decides to be a little generous and pours herself another. 

 

When she’s just about done eating her phone starts ringing, and Madge thinks it might be Delly or Johanna checking in on her, but she isn’t surprised when it’s a local number, one she’s too familiar with.

 

“Hello?”

 

_ “Hey, what are you up to?” _

 

“Just finished dinner.  I ate chicken alfredo linguine.  Super yummy,” Madge describes, heading over to her couch to sit down comfortably.

 

_ “Shit, don’t taunt me with food right now, Undersee.  It hurts my stomach to think about eating.” _

 

Gale is the type to finish all his work as soon as he gets home and forget about fixing up dinner for himself.  Madge has recommended him countless meal plan ideas and ways to plan around it, but he just won’t listen.  She makes a mental note to get him a slow cooker next Christmas if they’re doing presents, because that thing is honestly saving her life.

 

“What do you want to think about then?” she teases.

 

_ “Anything else, good things.  Got any ideas?” _

 

“Spring break in three and a half months,” she offers.

 

_ “That’s too far away.  Sooner.” _

 

“I’m sorry, what are we aiming for right now?  Like what are the rules of this game, we never discussed this through.”

 

_ “Just name things to take our minds off of my imminent hunger and my boring job.” _

 

“Your job isn’t boring.”

 

_ “I barely saw you all day,” _ is his response, and Madge finds herself biting her lip again, unable to control the rush of heat to her chest and all over her cheeks.

 

There’s a pause in their banter, but it isn’t awkward and it’s more comforting.  “You should go out and get some food,” she whispers after a while.  “I don’t want you to starve.”

 

_ “Okay, if you insist,” _ Gale surrenders.  Madge knows he’d stay on the phone talking to her all night if she let him.  _  “Did you get your drill of the day?” _

 

She laughs.  “Yeah.  Maybe draw something that won’t get me fired next time, thank you very much.”

 

_ “What can I say?  My creativity was flowing today.  And besides, if it weren’t for Coin you’d probably be out getting dinner with me right now.” _

 

“Gale…”

 

_ “I know.  Sorry, if I make you uncomfortable sometimes.” _

 

Gale knows it’s not that.  It was never that, Madge closes her eyes and leans her head back against the couch in frustration.  She’s trying to be a model employee and show all the old, stingy teachers that she’s just as efficient as they are.  It’s impossible to balance all of that with her life outside of work, and Madge doesn’t want to delve into whatever she and Gale might have, at least not right now.  

 

And as cliché as it sounds, she also doesn’t want to ruin what they have going on right now.  It’s easy and pure, they give and take from each other to a perfect balance.  If they were to be anything more Madge knows Gale would give 110%, and she’s afraid she won’t be able to do the same.  

 

“You don’t make me uncomfortable.”

 

A pause from Gale.  Madge wonders which words he wanted to fill them with.  “Okay, g’night Undersee.”

 

“Good night, see you tomorrow.”

 

He hangs up first and Madge is left with the silence of her lonely apartment, a little less cheerful and warm than it was before.  The lack of noise irks her and makes her anxious, so she turns on the radio and lets the music occupy every space in her mind.

 

Despite their unspoken tension, Gale’s still a constant in her life that she couldn’t live without.  So when she arrives at school the next day with twenty minutes to spare and sees a new slip of paper in her mailbox, she can’t help but smile from ear to ear.  

 

It’s a picture of stick figure Madge, conducting an orchestra of solely recorders.  She snorts and reads the caption:  _ “Why did you not tell me about this?  Congrats on Spring Concert, save me a ticket.  GH.” _

 

She sighs.  He’s too good, and Madge is too foolish, but really what’s new?

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one that I came up with on my flight (I'm on holiday!). Will definitely be posting a part 2, because the idea of Gale pining after Madge makes me weak. Please tell me what you think, if you'd enjoy a second part!


	6. Teachers: Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second part! Happy New Year Gadge fans, may 2017 be a year of so many more stories about these two wonderful characters.

Madge bustles backstage peeking into every corner and hiding place for the little girl.  The concert is starting in only half an hour, and if she can’t find this little choir member then Alma Coin might as well end her now.

 

She had heard from Ms. Flanagan, the English teacher who also runs the school choir club, that their lead singer for “Catch a Falling Star” is missing, and extremely nervous.  Mags also let her know that the lead’s name is Gwen, and Madge realized that she teaches Gwen and therefore decided to embark on a journey to find that fourth grader.

 

Finally when she looks into the last classroom of the hall, the music room, she sees her student sitting by herself on one of the chairs by herself, and she’s holding onto a piece of ribbon.

 

“Gwen?  Are you okay?” she asks, very well knowing the answer.  Madge has known stage fright her whole life, she’s kind of an expert on it.  She pulls a chair up next to the girl and studies her closely.  She’s not crying, but she’s clearly very nervous, chewing on her lips and looking a little embarrassed that she was found.  

 

“Ms. Undersee, I don’t think I can do it,” Gwen admits, mangling her ribbon in her fingers.  “I’ve been sick all week, I won’t reach the notes everyone wants to hear.”

 

“What are you talking about, of course you will.”  Madge insists, rubbing Gwen’s back.  She’s wearing a fancy purple dress, it looks so cute on her and Madge knows she probably bought it for this occasion.  “Do you want me to braid this ribbon into your hair?” 

 

She nods, so Madge turns her around so that she can reach around to the light brown hair.  “Listen, don’t stress about this performance, okay?  I’ve heard you humming along to the melody in class, you’re well rehearsed.  You know the notes, the words, all you have to do is go up there and sing like I know you’ve been practicing in your room.  I always used to get nervous too, but I would just think about my parents and friends watching me in the audience, and I’d want to make them proud.”

 

“But you’re not performing,” Gwen argues.

 

“Sure I am, I’m conducting the 8th Grade Orchestra.”  

 

“And are  _ your  _ parents in the audience, Ms. Undersee?”

 

“No, but other people are out there that I’m trying to make proud,” Madge explains, satisfied that the girl is back to her usual, silly back-and-forth.

 

“Like Mr. Hawthorne,” Gwen teases with a playful tooth-to-tooth grin.  Madge feels heat go to her cheeks.  The students have apparently picked up on their mutual attraction before she has, and she constantly gets teases and jibes about him in class.

 

“Sure,” Madge shrugs.  Whatever will keep this girl relaxed and happy, she’ll bite.  “Now do you think you can go out there and do your solo?  I know it’ll be beautiful, and I’ll be right backstage listening.”  She finishes plaiting her hair and ties it off, spinning back around to become face to face.  Gwen nods excitedly.  “Good, now go back with the choir and Mrs. Flanagan, alright?  I think they’re doing a final run.”

 

Gwen skips away and Madge sighs.  Being a teacher is beyond rewarding, but it sure is exhausting.  Just as she’s about to get up too and return backstage, she feels her phone buzz.  It’s Mr. Hawthorne himself.

 

_ Gale: My seat is crap!  In the back, probably won’t spot me. _

 

_ Madge: That’s okay, it’s what you get for showing up late. _

 

_ Gale:  Hey, it’ll sound the same from every corner.  Drinks afterwards? _

 

She thinks about it, wondering if she’ll be too exhausted to go to the bar after.  On the other hand, organizing the Spring Concert has been stressful as hell, she deserves a night off.  And a glass or two of wine.

 

_ Madge: Sure, your treat of course. _

 

_ Gale: Of course, Undersee.  Good luck tonight. _

 

And his texts make her smile.  She looks up from her phone and at her music classroom, and she can’t help but think she has the best job ever.

 

* * *

 

“It was so good, I think there were actually tears in my eyes at some points,” Gale jokes as they slide into the booth of their local bar.  Madge laughs at that, uncomfortable with too much praise.  

 

“Seriously, now I see why you’ve been so busy for the last few months.”

 

“Thanks, I guess.  I barely did anything though.  I mostly did the backstage stuff, programs, tickets, that kind of thing.”

 

“Still important,” he reasons, shedding his coat.  Gale probably went back home to change, because he’s in a navy blue sweater and jeans that make her salivate.  On the other hand she’s in a formal black dress and uncomfortable heels for conducting tonight, and she feels kind of silly sitting in the dingy bar dressed like this.

 

“Well, I promised I’d be paying.  What are we drinking tonight?”

 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m drinking wine.”

 

“Wow, really digging into my savings tonight aren’t you, Undersee?” he jokes, but for a moment Madge is taken aback, not really sure what to say.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry.  I can order something else or--”

 

“Madge,” he urges, snapping her out of it.  Honestly, she’s just a nervous wreck.  She’s not sure why - they’ve gone out for drinks numerous times and this shouldn’t be any different.  “I was joking.  Order whatever you want, you deserve it.”

 

She laughs along at how silly she was being and Gale reassures her it’s no problem.  For some reason she can’t stop looking at his eyes, they remind her of mirrors in a dimly lit room.  The bartender comes and takes their drink orders, and Gale is drinking scotch.  Just more evidence that he was completely joking about the wallet thing.

 

The drinks come and they order fries too.  Deep fried potatoes pair surprisingly well with a glass of pinot grigio, and Madge treats herself to the bar snack.  For moments they just talk about everything that’s been going on.  Gale is great company, and he always listens to what she has to say.  

 

Nothing’s really changed since a few months ago with them, except that he’s been trying a little less hard to date her.  Is it selfish to say she misses it?  She supposes it’s because he’s been busy too, but she never bothered to ask.

 

“I’ve spend every weekend up to this one wallowing in nerves about this damn concert,” she starts after they’re both onto their second round of drinks.  Gale switched to pop, he’s driving home afterall.  “I don’t even know what to do with myself anymore, all my passion has been drained out of me.”

 

“That’s how I feel after every class,” Gale jokes while taking a sip from his glass, and Madge frowns.

 

“You don’t hate your job  _ that  _ much, do you?”

 

“I love teaching math, I really do.  Just not to kids, I don’t know.  I want to get a job at the high school or something.  You’re so good with kids, you’re practically a natural, but I feel like my tolerance for teaching shapes to ten year olds is extremely limited.”

 

“You’re good with kids too, you were good with Posy when she was little.”  Madge met some of his siblings when they came to visit him at work.  Posy is the sweetest 16 year old she’d ever met, and Madge likes to think about Gale as a great older brother as well as a great friend.

 

“Yeah, well Pose was one kid.  I just feel like I’d have more fun teaching algebra to older students.  It’s okay if you don’t get it.”  He seems exhausted, maybe too tired for their usually back and forth.  Maybe he’s just out of it and that's okay - Madge likes his company nevertheless.

 

“I do get it, you’d be really great as a high school teacher,” Madge says, backtracking a little bit.  She pauses to pick her words carefully, knowing that it must be hard to talk about for him.  Gale gives her a skeptical look, as if she’s only saying the words to appease him.  “Well obviously I’d rather have you stay with us, so I’m not a neutral stakeholder.  I want you to stay, so we can do stuff like this.”

 

With that, Gale gives her a grim smile.  “Yeah, I know where you’re coming from.”

 

“But you’re still seriously considering it, right?”

 

He shrugs and pops a fry in his mouth.  “I’ve been looking at a couple job postings at high schools in the area.  I’ll probably apply.”

 

“And you’ll probably get the job.”  Gale raises an eyebrow, but Madge is insistent.  “Really, you’re a wonderful teacher, any school would be lucky to have you.”

 

“Why is that?”

 

“Because you’re an amazing guy.  You’re really dedicated to what you love, you really care.”

 

He pauses and looks down at his drink, and Madge wonders if she’s said something wrong.  Gale looks like he’s thinking hard, he’s furrowing his brow and he opens his mouth as if he wants to say something but he doesn’t.

 

“Madge,” he finally manages to get out.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You know I like you, right?” he asks simply, and Madge’s heart stops.  “I like you a lot, and I know you’re not interested in me that way, or whatever, but it just doesn’t help when we go out and you say nice things to me like that.”

 

“I-- I..” she tries to say something, but she’s at a loss for words.  She thinks she should apologize or something, but Gale shakes his head.  He pulls out his wallet and puts a couple of bills on the table, grabbing his jacket.

 

“I knew this was a bad idea,” he admits while rubbing his stubble in contemplation.  “I don’t know why I said all of that to you, I think I’m going to go.”

 

“Wait, Gale, let me just-” she tries to interject but he’s already shrugging his coat on, walking towards the door.

 

Madge bites her lip and rushes out after him, purse barely over her shoulder.  She pushes the flimsy door open and Gale is trying to open the door to his car, parked right outside the bar.  The damn thing always jams, and desperately needs to be fixed.

 

She turns him around, she’s almost fuming that he would just leave her in there all alone.

 

“Madge please make this easy for me and-”

 

She gets on her toes and presses her lips against his, regretting everything: the way she’s been leading him on, how she never tells him how she really feels.  She’s into him, she really is, but she’s just been so concentrated on work she never took into account the toll it was all taking on him.

 

And she regrets not kissing him earlier as well because he feels so good; he kisses her like he couldn’t breath and now she’s fresh air.  Madge wants him to just inhale her, but when she leans against him more Gale staggers back breaking the kiss.

 

“You can’t just do that,” he accuses, and his voice breaks a little bit.  Madge is speechless yet again, her lips are cold from the wind blowing outside and something else.  “I’m sorry, I really can’t do this anymore.  I’ll see you around, Undersee.”

 

He gets into his car and Madge just stands there like an idiot.  It hurts like a sharp pain in her chest, and all that’s playing in her mind is every interaction they’ve ever had, she’s wondering where she went wrong.  Probably the whole time, it was wrong of her to think she could pass off her feelings as friendship.  Because now she doesn’t even have that.

 

It’s funny how a great night can go south so quickly.  Madge tries to hold in her tears until she gets into her own car, and that’s when she lets a couple fall, but she can’t see them against her black dress.

 

* * *

 

Weeks pass and it becomes less of a stabbing pain and more like a dull throb in her heart.  They pass each other in the halls and sometimes in the staff room, but Gale avoids her with all he has.  It’s exhausting to be at work without talking to him or reading his funny notes, and Madge wishes she was brave enough to change that.

 

Madge is afraid that Gale is taking her lack of reaching out as evidence that everything he said was true, but it’s not.  She  _ does _ like him as more than a friend.  She’s pretty sure friends don’t spend so much time together and flirt aimlessly for over a year.  Where did she get the idea that he would be happy with just being friends?  Gale has been explicit about his feelings for her from the start.  And Madge thought that could be put aside.

 

She’s hurting and Annie notices.  Ms. Cresta, the social studies teacher, her only other friend at this school comes to her classroom when they both have no class to teach and confronts her.

 

“It’s just really hard to handle when my two friends at work are ignoring each other,” the redhead explains, trying not to be intrusive.  “I know it’s none of my business, but are you guys going to be okay, Madge?”

 

“I don’t know, I screwed up Annie.  I don’t think he wants to know me anymore.”

 

“Of course he wants to know you, he’s head over heels for you!”

 

“Exactly,” Madge points out, and Annie seems to understand the implications of that one word.  Madge sighs, looking back down at the theory quizzes she’s supposed to be grading.  “I feel like I’m in a deadlock.  Nothing’s changed with Coin and what she expects from us, and Gale is just flat out pretending I don’t exist.”

 

“Okay, if this is about Coin then there really is no question.  Who cares about what she thinks, she can't do anything.  She can't fire us, it's all in the contracts.”

 

“But she judges us.”

 

“She loves you Madge.  You just pulled off an entire concert, that's more than any of the senior staff would take on,” Annie insists.  She gives her friend a look that's a bit sad, but mostly just understanding.  “I just want you guys to be happy.  I think you make each other really happy.”

 

It's true.  Nothing these days makes her happy like Gale and his half-paged notes, his knowing smiles and his phone calls.  Just thinking about it makes her chew her lip and furrow her brows.

 

Annie rubs her arm and sighs, getting up from the tiny classroom chair.  “You guys will figure it out, you always do.  I’m going out for a coffee run, do you want anything?”

 

Madge shakes her head and thanks her friend for the advice.  They were mostly friends out of circumstance because they were the only younger staff in the school, but Annie is as good as any person gets.  She decides to find Gale and talk to him when he can, when he wants too.

 

But turns out that moment doesn’t come soon enough.  Days pass and he’s still turning his head in the halls, leaving for home right after school so he can avoid her.  And Madge has to decide that enough is enough, he’s being ridiculous at this point, and Madge just needs to know if he wants her at all.

 

She’s teaching a last period class of eighth graders, talking them through an assignment in the last few minutes of class when she sees Gale through the tiny window slit in the classroom door.  He’s leaving, probably didn’t have a class last period and he’s headed towards the parking lot.

 

Madge acts fast.  “Okay class, I think that’s enough for today.  I’m going to let you go a bit early, you all deserve a break.  See you tomorrow!”

 

She nods briefly at students whooping and thanking her before making a run for it, out of the classroom and through the halls.  He has made it to his car when she calls out at him.

 

“Gale!” she cries, but he doesn’t respond, only fiddling with his keys with more vigor.  He’s probably cursing his damn car, wishing it was fixed so that he could get away from her faster.  “Gale,” she tries again, getting closer to him and touching his arm.  He turns around and looks at her, and Madge tries not to get tongue tied again but she feels it coming on.”

 

“Hey, Undersee,” he grumbles casually - too casually.

 

“Hey?  That’s all?” she laughs sadly.  “You haven’t spoken to me in weeks.”

 

“Well I wasn’t planning on stopping now,” he jokes bitterly, and it hurts her a little bit.  “You’re the one who ran over to me.”

 

“I miss you.”

 

“I have to get home.”

 

“No please, just listen to me,” she urges, and for the first time Gale doesn’t look like he’s trying to flee.  Madge sighs, “I get why you’re mad at me.  We were friends and you made it clear you wanted more, and I pretended that you would be okay with just that.  But I did that because I was caught up with work, okay?  Not because I don’t like you, otherwise I wouldn’t’ve kissed you.”

 

“I just wish people would stop kissing me because they fucking pity me,” he spits.  There’s a story behind his words, there has to be, but Madge doesn’t ask.  She just steps closer to him and shakes her head.

 

“I didn’t kiss you because I pity you.”

 

“How do I believe that, Madge?”

 

She puts her hands in his and tries to hold back her tears. Madge misses the days when they could rely on each other and she wants it back.  “You trust me, don’t you?”

 

He pulls away.  “That’s not the point.”

 

“What do you mean?  That’s the only point there is!” Madge laughs, and she gets even closer to him because she feels his walls coming down.  She can smell his cologne and she doesn’t even care that they’re in the school parking lot.  It’s not important, not right now.  “I’m so into you…” she whispers while leaning in and staring at his lips.  “I’m sorry.  Please, let me in.”

 

Their lips graze and it feels like heaven.  Neither of them push for more or deepen the kiss, but Madge holds onto his lapels and opens her eyes just for a second and smiles.  After a couple of seconds she tries for more but Gale breaks away again, and Madge is scared she’s done something wrong.  It’s a sad kind of déja vu, but he only chuckles this time.

 

“Let’s not put on too much of a show for our good friend Alma.”

 

They look at Coin’s office, stationed with a window facing out into the parking lot and Madge bursts out in laughter.  “Okay.”

 

For a moment they just stare at each other, smiling like idiots.  Madge turns her head.  “Do you really have somewhere to be right now?”

 

“No,” Gale grins, pulling her a bit closer to him and to the car.  “Come over.”

 

“I drove to work too, you know.”

 

“Meet me there?” he asks hopefully.  “We need to catch up, Ms. Undersee.  It’s been a long time.”

 

Madge pretends to think about it for a while, biting her lip, but they both know she’s already made up her mind.  “Okay, Mr. Hawthorne, I’ll meet you there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this little two-part fic I came up with! If you liked it, please let me know, your love and supportive words never fail to brighten my day.
> 
> On another note: do any of you guys like/have watched Gossip Girl? I have half of a Gadge/Gossip Girl AU one-shot written up, tell me if you like to read it and I'll make it happen. :)


	7. Prep School (Gossip Girl AU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Gossip Girl AU, but by no means do you have to have watched Gossip Girl to understand it, it's super centric on Madge and Gale's relationship. All you need to know is that the characters attend a super fancy and expensive preparatory high school, and they live in the Upper East Side of New York, a pretty pricy and bougie neighbourhood.
> 
> It's a long one, enjoy!

_ Rise & shine Upper East Siders, it’s a new school year and I bet many of you have probably thought about your resolutions to be better students, children, boyfriends and girlfriends.  Lucky for me, some of you never change.  Let’s turn on the juice and see what shakes loose, xoxo Gossip Girl. _

 

* * *

 

Madge sits patiently in the black car as it moves slowly through the streets of the Upper East Side.  After a long summer of rest and relaxation school is starting again, and she doesn’t mind it.  School is not too much of a pain for her, it’s a chance to see her friends and although she’d never care to admit it, she enjoys the classes as well.

 

Her dad hired a new driver apparently, and Madge silently wonders why.  It doesn’t bother her that much; this one doesn’t try to make idle conversation with her and pry into her life, and that’s good enough for her.

 

The car stops at an apartment on 5th Avenue and 81st Street, and Delly Cartwright opens the door and steps right in.

 

“Hey Madge!”

 

“Hi Dell, you look tan,” she says to her friend, loving the way her bronzed skin looks with her light hair.  Madge would do the same if she didn’t burn every time she tried.

 

“Oh yeah, I got back from Ibiza just yesterday.  I’m jetlagged as hell.”

 

“Do you want to stop for coffee?”

 

“You’re so thoughtful, but no thanks.  I probably won’t crash until the afternoon, I’ll go then.”

 

Madge starts to do the math of Delly’s jetlag in her head, but gives up.  Her friend talks more about her vacation and the boys she met while she was there and Madge just listens.  It’s almost surreal to be going to Constance Billard again, and the thought of going back to classes and lockers makes her adjust her necktie and fix her tights nervously.

 

The car pulls up to the steps of the school, and Madge gets out with a sigh.  They walk past the doors of St. Jude’s School for Boys, the sister school of Constance.  She notices Delly peeking her head into the courtyard.

 

“Are you looking for someone?”

 

“Yeah.  Peeta Mellark, you know him?”  Yes, she knows Peeta.  They’re parents used to have dinner parties together where she and Peeta were left to play with his nanny.  He was her first boyfriend in junior high after all, so Madge just nods.  Delly continues, “He’s having a huge party today in his penthouse.  Parents are out of town.”

 

“And what do you need to ask him?”

 

“I need to know if I can bring someone,” Delly says with a coy smile, and Madge is instantaneously more interested than before and her ears perk up.

 

“Who?”

 

“Just this guy, he doesn’t go to St. Jude’s, obviously.  I met him at the beginning of the summer when I was in the city, he’s beautiful and he’s sweet to me.  I don’t know…” Delly explains as they walk into the doors of Constance.  She’s clearly more attached than she usually is, her indifference towards the boys she hooks up with is almost notorious.  

 

“Bring him for sure,” Madge urges with a supportive smile.  “I want to meet him.”

 

“Gale introduced us actually,” her friend adds, and the mention of his name makes Madge tense, her heart beats a little bit faster.  Delly either notices her hesitation or is just going off on a tangent when she asks, “Have you been keeping up with him over the summer?”

 

“No, why would I?” she answers tritely.  Gale and Madge had established that they’re little arrangement only served a single purpose, and she felt as if making an active effort to catch up with him fell on the other side of the boundary.  Delly drops the subject observantly, and the rest of the walk through the halls to the senior wing is spent hugging old friends and whispering to each other about some new girls.

 

Grade 12 is a whole new year, one with it’s own set of issues.  While most people are focused on the seniority, the parties and the experience, Madge is constantly reminded of university applications and holding onto the family reputation.  It’s exhausting, but it’s for the best.  And lucky for her, her parents urges are usually just verbal.  They don’t care about her enough to enforce it and she has most of her nights out anyways, going to whatever swanky social event her classmates have come up with this time.

 

She starts to organize her locker, and a couple of girls come up to her and ask about her vacation, Peeta’s party and her schedule.  It’s all polite and menial, so unlike the snarky girls that some of them really are.

 

Soon the class bell rings, a couple of girls just keep talking, not regarding the noise.  They start to disperse nevertheless, but Madge was too busy organizing her school bag to have noticed it.  She’s the only one in the halls now, and she groans in frustration.

 

Despite what others might think about her, Madge hates being late for class.  So she scurries down the hall towards the English room, aware of the sound of another pair of footsteps rounding the corner.  It's Gale and he smirks when he sees her, and suddenly Madge is being pulled into the janitor’s closet and she squeals in surprise.

  
"My god, Gale.  You're crazy."

 

"Thanks.  How was your summer, Undersee?"

 

They're so close that Madge can count his eyelashes, like she's tried to do many times.  She can feel his fingers dancing under her skirt inching closer to her ass, and it makes her suck in her breath.  "It was fine, I don't know.  Boring."   
  
"Did you go to the Hamptons?"   
  
"When do I not?" she smartly responds.  Call her spoiled, but she's tired of going to her family's home in the Hamptons with her parents.  There's nothing to do and she always has to see her classmates there too, which she'd rather not have.  "What about you?"   
  
"I went on a hiking tour with Katniss.  And our families, of course."   
  
"Are you two married yet?" Madge teases with a subtle resentment, even if Gale's reassured her multiple times about his platonic relationship with Katniss Everdeen. Madge can never tell what she's thinking or what she wants, and that annoys her.   
  
"I'm popping the question fifth period today actually," he responds sarcastically, and Madge takes the time to step forward so that he's the one pinned against the supply shelf and kisses him for the first time in months.   
  
He tastes like coffee and smells like pine, and she sighs in content when he starts to kiss her back.  Gale manages to be everywhere at once; she feels his hands grabbing her cheeks through her La Perla's, his feet in between hers pushing her legs apart and and his teeth nipping at her lower lip.  She puts her hands flat on his chest with the intention to slow his down, but she knows she could never resist when Gale pulls her into the closet like this.   
  
They had never meant to make a habit out of it.  He had kissed her spontaneously in the middle of a heated argument one night at Glimmer's sweet sixteen, and he set a fire in her that she didn't know existed.  But now they kiss when they need to take their anger out on someone, or when one of them is horny or simply just bored.  And Madge can't even count the number of times over the summer she's stared at her phone talking herself out of texting him, because she likes conversation with him, she likes the way he treats her.  Not like some delicate doll who can't be touched, but a woman who needs to satisfied and he never stops until she's there.   
  
"Did you miss me?" he mutters against her mouth.   
  
"No," she lies.  "I didn't.  Sorry."   
  
"But what if you did?"   
  
"Well then I guess I'd be in love with you, wouldn't I?"   
  
The words are harsh, probably harsher than he expected, so Gale gives her silence.  He licks her soft neck and blows on it, and Madge holds in her gasp of pleasure so that he won't get too cocky.  It doesn't work though, because goosebumps come up onto her skin and it makes him chuckle.  "Goosebumps.  Jesus, Undersee."   
  
"It's because it's cold."   
  
"Sure.  The draft in tiny school closets is insane these days."

 

He’s oozing sarcasm and it pains her.  “You’re such a smartass.”

 

“Don’t you like it?” he asks coyly, and something flashes in his eye that makes her press her lips against him again.  They land on his neck, kissing and sucking his stubbled skin.  Gale’s unlike the preppy and couth boys at St. Jude’s who ask her on dates to their daddy’s yacht club, he’s strong and tall and  _ such  _ a man.  She makes her way to his Adam’s apple, and then the other side, and when she sucks that little bit harder she sees a small pink welt start to form.

 

Gale groans her name and she scolds him.  “Don't be too loud.”

 

“Why?  It's not like we haven't fucked in this closet before anyway.”  Madge’s face turns red and Gale beams as if he’s accomplished a goal.

 

“Don't you have class?” she asks trying to change the subject.

 

He just shrugs.  “I have a free period.”

 

“Okay, well I'm late for English.  I'll see you around,” she puts simply, straightening out her skirt that he ruffled up.  

 

“Wait, Madge,” he starts when she tries to open the door.  He grabs onto her wrist and when Madge turns back around he looks disappointed, but also hopeful.  “Are you going to Mellark’s party tonight?”

 

“Are you?”  Gale nods, and she looks down.  “What’s the point, it's not like we can hang out anyways.”

 

“Hey, we're our schools’ worst kept secret at this point,” he recognizes.  “Come on, humour me.”

 

Madge looks at him and she doesn't see the cocky, witty guy that always cracks a joke at her, but a guy that really just wants to spend time with her.  She wants it too, she just can't stop thinking about her stupid reputation or what her parents would think about him.  Gale’s really smart and it's not like he’s on scholarship (talking to the scholarship kids is strictly forbidden), but his parents work hard to send him here and he doesn't live in the Upper East Side.  He lives in Brooklyn, and Madge has only ever crossed that bridge a handful of times out of necessity.  The thought crosses her mind that maybe he missed her too, and he wants to spend time with her.

 

“Maybe,” she decides.  “We’ll see.”

 

He sighs and gives her a smile.  “I'll take it.  Just text me and I’ll come find you.”

 

She nods in agreement and listens for footsteps outside, stepping out when it's safe and leaving Gale to exit in two minutes - as they've rehearsed.  It’s almost too routine, Madge can’t believe they’re at it again.  She was counting on the whole “new year, new me” thing but clearly old habits die hard.

 

The rest of the school day is spent brainlessly milling through her classes and talking to her friends.  She has a reputation, for being diligent at school but also for being somewhat popular.  Madge isn’t sure how, perhaps people all have assumptions about blondes with rich parents and her quiet composition could be seen as a mystery.  It’s stupid, she knows, but it’s better than being left behind.  If only people would just get off her case sometimes, though, that would be nice.

 

“Have you seen Gale Hawthorne yet?” Clove asks at lunch while they sit on the steps of the Met.  Madge is staring intensely at her yogurt but she’s not really hungry enough to put it in her mouth.  “He went to the forest or something - got super strong and tan, it’s delicious.”

 

Glimmer laughs cruelly.  “Didn’t he go with Katniss Everdeen?  I question his choice of company.”

 

Madge scrunches her nose in distaste.  She rather likes Katniss Everdeen, just not when it looks like Gale pays her more attention.  The two girls sat next to each other in history last year and spent their time trading notes and making fun of the likes of Clove and Glimmer.

 

“I don’t know,” Clove sighs while twirling a piece of hair.  “But he’s always brooding, I feel like he thinks a lot, do you know what I mean?  It just makes me want a slice.”

 

“Maybe he’ll be at Peeta’s,” Delly pipes up, looking directly at Madge as if she’s trying to agitate her into a confession.  Delly is Madge’s only true friend around here, and she knows what she’s been up to.  The problem is Madge doesn’t want to say it out loud and make things official, it almost feels like she’s jinxing their relationship.

 

“You’re so right Dell, I’ll stop by Neiman’s today and pick something hot out.”

 

And in that moment nothing looks more appealing than Madge’s stupid yogurt.  She stabs at it and shovels a little bit in her mouth, never looking up at the other girls.  None of them would notice anyways, except for Delly, but she would never pry.

 

Afterschool Madge has her first piano lesson of the year,  It’s something she loves doing and is happy to be picking back up, but she spends the whole lesson internally debating the pros and cons of going to Peeta’s party.

 

She wants to go, but knows it won’t be as great as she’s expecting.  It’s the first party of the year which means some people will be going a bit crazy, but perhaps crazy enough for her and Gale to be ignored all together.  As pathetic as it sounds she just wants to  _ see _ him.  After a long and lonely summer all she wants is to make up for lost time and see him a little bit longer.

 

In the end, she decides the pros outweigh any social harm that might come to her.  Besides, she has a new dress from Barney’s that her mom picked out for her a month ago and she still hasn't gotten the chance to wear it.

 

It’s a dark grey, shimmery slip with a strappy and revealing top.  Madge isn’t sure why her mom lets her go out in clothes like this, but it  _ is _ fashionable, so she can’t complain.  Her mom is nothing if not fashionable, and instead of being emotionally available, Madge supposes she buys shiny things for her daughter to make up for it in some strange way.

 

Madge keeps her makeup simple and puts her day-old hair in a messy chignon.  A choker is paired with her little dress, and after a quick dinner of whatever her maid cooked up tonight, she’s out the door and into her new driver’s sedan, off to Peeta Mellark’s penthouse.

 

The Mellarks own a swanky penthouse with a great view, right on the East River.  The whole family is old money, Peeta used to always tell them about how his dad was nicknamed “The Baker.”  When people asked why, he always had the same stupid answer.  

 

_ “Because he knows how to bring in that dough, you know what I’m saying?” _

 

They did indeed, know what he was saying.  He received a Maserati for his sixteenth birthday, and from then on no one laughed at his baker jokes anymore.

 

When Madge arrives the place is already pretty crowded, packed with students taking shots and playing some party games.  There’s beer pong in one corner and a girl getting tequila sucked out of her stomach on the pool table, and for Madge, regret is already starting to kick in.  She does a quick head scan for Gale, doesn’t see him and sends him a text, letting him know she’s arrived.  For now, she’ll be by herself.

 

Thankfully she finds Delly after a dozen minutes of pushing past a couple of stumbling bodies.  Not so thankfully, Delly’s a bit tipsy too, and she’s cuddled up with a tall, long faced boy who has broad shoulders.

 

“Madge!  Babe, you look hot!” she exclaims, shaking her new boy and looking at him for confirmation.  “Doesn’t she look so beautiful?  I fucking love my best friend, Thom.  She’s amazing.”

 

Delly loves to give compliments when she’s drunk, and Thom gives Madge a look that says he’s amused too.  He nods and smiles.  “Hi, I’m Thom.”

 

“Madge Undersee,” she replies, and he cocks his head in recognition as if he knows something she doesn’t, and then he nods eagerly.

 

“Nice to meet you Madge.”

 

“Madge!” Delly pipes.  “Did you meet Thom?  He’s the boy I said I’ve been seeing!”

 

Madge nods reassuringly, knowing that mentioning that introductions had already occurred would only make her upset.  Perhaps it’s just because the music is loud, it’s easy to miss what someone’s been saying.  “Wow, how long have you guys been seeing each other?”

 

“Things have been casual since… June?” her friend estimates, and Thom shrugs, agreeing with the guess.

 

Then Delly starts to nuzzle him, touching noses and laughing every time their lips almost touch.  Madge sees Thom’s hand start to curl under her friend’s thigh, so she decides that it’s time to leave them alone for a while.

 

They exchange brief goodbyes and a promise to see each other around throughout the night and Madge is alone again, wandering the penthouse aimlessly making small talk with people who flag her down.

 

It’s exhausting, it truly is.  Madge considers herself a nice person, but she can only listen to people talk about exotic locations and private jets for so long.

 

After another 30 minutes, she’s bored, still yet to see Gale and needs fresh air.  So Madge heads towards the balcony where of course, some people are smoking their drugs of choice.  It's windy enough for the smell not to bother her, so Madge stands by the wall and checks her phone to see if he’s texted her back yet.  The answer is no, and she scoffs to herself for thinking this party would be fruitful at all.

 

“Hey Undersee!” she hears from the other side of the balcony.  It's Marvel, he's lounged over a couch with some of his friends with a fat Cuban cigar in his hand.  “Do you want a smoke?  Darts, cigars, joints, hookah, we got it all.”

 

For the first time Madge sees the hookah sitting on the table and she can’t help but laugh and cover her mouth.  Marvel’s definitely on something else too, he’s being ridiculous.

 

“I'm good, but thanks.”

 

“Are you sure?  I have menthols, I know you like those.”

 

“I'm really fine,” she says with conviction, deciding that Marvel and his band of stoners are the definition of peer pressure.  She starts to go back into the doors when she sees Gale coming out at the same time.  He takes her by surprise,

 

“Hi,” she smiles flirtatiously, and Gale backs her right out onto the patio.

 

He puts his hands around her waist and gives her an affectionate hug, and Madge needs to look back at the stoners to make sure they aren’t paying any unwanted attention.  Gale’s being publicly affectionate, that’s how she knows he’s a little tipsy.  “Undersee, you’re here.”

 

“Yeah, I’ve been waiting for you for an hour,” she scoffs, and then she frowns.  “I’m not having that much fun.  It’s too crowded, too rowdy.”

 

“It’s nice out here,” Gale offers, and Madge raises an eyebrow skeptically at Marvel and his friends.  He just laughs and shakes his head.  “Don’t worry about them, they’re too fucked to notice us.  Come on Madge, dance with me?”

 

Gale puts out his hand to her as if they were at a ball, and Madge can’t help but giggle.  She takes it and he spins her around so that her back is tucked into his torso and they’re both looking out over the balcony into the Manhattan skyline.  She feels his hands lingering at her hips and even though they’ve been there countless times before they make her skin tingle.  They sway gently to the residual music that manages to float outside, mostly the thumping of the bass and a whisper of a melody.

 

“How drunk are you?” she asks quietly, hoping he’ll hear her.

 

Gale hums into her ear.  “Not that drunk, I only got here a while ago.”

 

“And what were you doing before you came out here?”

 

“Beer pong,” he replies, as if it’s the only natural answer.  “Also, Clove kept talking to me, holding me back.  I don’t get good vibes from that girl.”

 

Madge smiles silently because she considers that a small victory.  Clove has a lot of things, but she’ll never have Gale Hawthorne.  But then the question arises, does she really have Gale Hawthorne?  They never really talked about it, but Madge would jump towards the opportunity for more if he asked.  The idea scares her though, of a relationship in a school like this, and Madge can’t help but ask the questions and the words spill out of her mouth.

 

“Why do you like me?”

 

“Huh?” Gale asks in confusion, and for a second Madge thinks he might be too drunk to be having this conversation right now.  He swore that he wasn’t though, so Madge tries again.

 

“Why do you like  _ me _ ?  I’m no different from Clove or any other girl at Constance.  I’m just a little rich girl with lots of petty problems.”

 

“Who said anything about me liking you?” Gale teases, and Madge turns around to glare at him which makes him put his hands back on her waist.  “Hey, I’m kidding.  You know I’m so into you, Undersee.”  He pauses for a little bit as if to think, and then he looks right back at her.  “I guess you’re different.”

 

“That’s a fucking cliche,” Madge grumbles dismissively.  If he wanted different he’d be with Katniss, not with her.

 

“No, but it’s true,” he insists.  “I feel like you play up the stereotype.  Like you pretend to be this snobby, prude and mean kind of girl, but you’re not.  When you let your guard down, you’re the sweetest and most caring person I know, and I need that kind of person sometimes.”

 

“Why do you think I do it?” she asks curiously, not caring that she’s being psychoanalyzed in the middle of a party by her year long fuck buddy.

 

“Because you need to fit in,” he shrugs.  “That’s just how it is in the Upper East Side.  It’s the same reason you don’t want to really date me or tell anyone about…”

 

“I’m not ashamed of you,” Madge explains clearly, shocked that Gale thought that.  “I’m not trying to hide you, I… I like you a lot.”  She wishes she knew how to say something that meant more but she doesn’t.  “But like you said, the people we’re surrounded by are vicious.  I’m always afraid that if people  _ really  _ find out about us, we’d be ruined.  They’d tarnish us.”

 

“I wouldn’t let that happen.”

 

“You say that now,” Madge promises.  The Upper East Side doesn’t let anybody come out unscathed; it makes fools out of them all.  They’re heads touch and their noses bump, but Gale doesn’t kiss her.  He just holds her there with his eyes closed as if he knows she’s right, but doesn’t want to admit it.

 

They stay that way for a sweet moment until they hear hoots and hollers from beside them.  “Nice work Hawthorne,” one of the boys on the couch snickers.  He’s still in his St. Jude’s uniform which makes Madge scrunch her nose in distaste.   _ How plebeian. _  “Didn’t think you’d be the one to get Undersee to put out, eh?”

 

It’s disgusting, but they pretend to laugh along.  None of them will remember it coherently enough in the morning anyways.  Gale leans in closer to whisper in her ear.  “You were right, it’s filthy around here, do you want to go?”

 

She nods, but then frowns.  “My parents are at home this week, we can’t go there.”  Save the maid, her fifth avenue apartment is usually totally empty.  It’s lonely, sure, but it always makes for a good place to hang out.

 

“I have an idea, but I don’t know if you’ll like it,” Gale starts jokingly, and Madge urges him on.  “My place is empty now.”

 

Madge wonders what could be so harmful about that, but then she remembers the reason she’s never been to his flat before.  “Brooklyn?”

 

“Yeah,” he chuckles.  “Brooklyn.”

 

“That’s fine, I’m not that snobby,” she insists.  “I’ll just call my driver, we can leave now and… oh.”  She doesn’t know her new driver’s number.  He dropped her off at this dumb party with no means of contacting him back.

 

“So you’re not too snobby for Brooklyn, but are you too snobby for the subway?” he asks, and Madge thinks about the last time she got on the MTA.  It honestly does scare her a little bit, her mother always tells her horror stories of the types of people you meet on the subway.

 

Gale senses her slightly scared expression and he laughs a little bit more, which only makes Madge jut her chin up with pride.  “That’s fine.  Lead the way.”

 

Maybe he’s surprised by her response, but she likes the way he’s looking at her, like she’s exciting and fearless and so many things that she’s not.

 

He leads her out of the party, no one even notices that they’re slipping out.  The music and talking was so loud, all Madge hears when she walks down the street and into the subway station is an ambient buzz ringing in her ear.  It’s dark out, so the station’s fluorescent lights feel forceful, but Gale keeps her by his side, hand around her shoulder.

 

When they make it to the turnstiles, Gale pulls out a card and swipes it, easily making his way in.  Madge on the other hand freezes, not really sure what to do.

 

“You don’t have a metropass, do you?” he asks with no judgement, just worry.  He points to the machine in the back.  “I obviously can’t come back around and help you, but you can buy a ticket over there.  If you need help just shout.”

 

It should be such an easy thing, but it’s not.  She looks at the metal machine, perplexed, tapping on the screen looking for a single ride ticket.  When she gets to the payment part, it only costs three dollars, but Madge can only fish out a fifty from her wallet.  So she feeds it in, cringing at all the dirty bills and loose change that spits right out of the bottom.

 

Finally she retrieves her ticket, joining Gale on the other side.

 

“Are you okay?” he asks knowingly, always checking up on her.

 

“Of course.”

 

The ride on the subway is long, but not too bad.  They only transfer once and Madge only sees a couple of other people, all who look very normal.  It’s actually quite fun, zooming around underground and looking at the colours of each of the stations, but she would never tell Gale that.  He would be too smug.

 

His building is not too far from his stop either, and after walking for five minutes in the summer night, they walk up three flights of stairs and make it to his apartment.

 

As Gale promised, they’re the only ones home.  He flicks on the scattered lights and reveals a spacious gentrified apartment, complete with exposed brick and movable dividers for some walls.  It’s actually nice too, just nothing like Madge’s place back in Manhattan, and nothing screams “Brooklyn” more than this place.  She guesses that Gale’s jokes about his parents being hippies were not a joke at all.

 

“So what do you think?” he asks after she stares for a while.

 

Madge snaps out of her trance and smiles, letting him lead her across the apartment.  “It’s nice.  Where’s your room?”

 

“Well, right this way m’lady,” he responds, and she can’t help but roll her eyes.  So stupid.

 

Gale’s room is surprisingly neat, and Madge looks around as they sit on the edge of the bed, not saying any words.  After a while though Gale coughs to break the silence, perhaps not really knowing what to do with himself either.

 

“Do you want a beer?” 

 

Madge has never really tried beer before, she prefers wine and cocktails and all those girly things.  But she wants to continue to impress him in some twisted way, so she nods and Gale heads to the kitchen.

 

For the brief moment when he’s gone Madge looks at the belongings in his room: a couple of pictures with his family and one with Katniss.  She turns it facing down in spite.  What?  Madge just doesn’t want to be looking at Katniss Everdeen while she does whatever they plan on doing in this room.

 

She’s nosily flipping through some prints of photos he took himself when Gale comes back in with two cans in his hands.

 

“I got you a cider instead, thought you’d like it more,” he explains, giving her the cold can.  It tastes just like apple juice, so Madge shrugs and sips it quietly.  It’s sweet that Gale thought about that.

 

“Nice pictures,” she says, nodding at the prints.

 

“Thanks,” he shrugs.  “Do you want one?”

 

“One of your prints?”

 

“No, do you want me to take a photo of you?” Gale rephrases, nodding at an instant camera hanging by the neck strap on his bed frame.

 

It looks vintage, unlike those dinky modern ones that come in pastel colours.  Madge looks at him, unsure.  She's standing in front of his window in a dress that is frankly just not enough to keep her warm and she feels a little small.  Gale grabs the apparatus just as she tries to decline, but he nods his head in encouragement.  “Just stay right there, put your cider down maybe.”

 

She places it on the window sill hesitantly and looks at him with apprehension.  Gale’s eye is already behind the camera, finding the frame.  “I don't know, I'm not good at the whole smiling thing.”

 

“You don't need to smile,” he explains.  “Just express how you're feeling.”  Madge is super camera shy, so she looks down at the ground because apparently she can't think of any natural facial expressions.  Suddenly Gale calls her name softly, and when she looks up at him the flash goes off.  It's done, he didn't even let her prepare and now the camera is whirring and spitting out a white card.

 

“Hey, you didn't let me decide on an expression.”

 

“You weren't going to.  Besides, you looked good.”

 

“Can I see?”

 

“We can't flip it up,” Gale explains, placing it face down on his nightstand.  “We have to let it develop.”

 

Madge rolls her eyes, completely unhappy that she participated in this.  “You're such a dork.”

 

“Come,” he motions, getting her back on the bed.  She sits in the middle, crossing her legs and letting the silence of the night seep into the room.  

 

“Was this place always an apartment?”

 

“No.”  Gale shakes his head.  “I think it used to be a factory or something.  A sweatshops that made clothes, toys, stuff like that.  They transformed it a couple year ago, and my parents loved the facade.  The red brick and everything.”

 

“It's cool,” she nods.

 

“I know it's no Mellark penthouse or anything, but it's home.”

 

“I like it better than Peeta’s,” Madge asserts, but Gale just raises his eyebrows and doesn't question it.  It's the truth, no matter what he thinks.  

 

He reaches over to the nightstand grabs the Polaroid.  “Let's have a look at this picture.”

 

When it's turned over and revealed, it's actually not half bad.  Most of the frame is the window, with all the city lights and shapes in the background.  On the side though, stands Madge.  There's something about the washed out print that makes her look caught in the moment, it adds to her wide eyes and pouty nude lips.  It's then that she realizes her hair was a mess, fallen out wispies frame her face and her braid looks more like a bundle of knots.  Too bad she wasted one of his photo films.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“What for?  The way it turned out is awesome.  The flash makes you look ethereal.”

 

“Don't kid,” Madge says while shaking her head.  But she can't help but love his words; they make her heart speed up and her body turn to jello when he takes her arm and pulls her on top of him.

 

“I'm not kidding.”  He kisses her then, and Madge dips her head down from her hovering position to meet his lips passionately.  She’s yearned for him for three months and doesn't have the control to hold back down.  So she brings her legs around and down in a comfortably straddle to find a better angle.

 

Madge has never  _ really _ kissed anyone else.  She’s pecked some middle school boyfriends and participated in some games of Spin The Bottle, but none of that could ever add up to the way Gale feels.  She doesn't know any better, but he could be the best kisser on earth, Madge supposes.

 

And Gale’s had his fair share of real kisses, she knows that.  Few at Constance, but before they happened Madge would see him at parties in some dark corner with some mysterious girl.  It does nothing for her self confidence, but Gale claims he loves her lips too.  Perhaps she’ll just have to believe him.

 

After a while Gale pulls away to just look at her, and he plays with the hem of her shimmery dress.  “You're so fucking pretty.”

 

Those words could only come out of his mouth and manage to make her weak and speechless.  Otherwise they’d sound useless, devoid of any meaning and emotion.  She continues her kisses, rough and insistent this time while letting her hands roam his chest.  

 

When Madge is done with his mouth she trails down to his neck, licking the hickey that she left this morning in the school closet and giving it a little twin right beside it.  Usually in his uniform tie would make it hard to go any further, but right now in his grungy band t-shirt she’s able to nibble on his collar bones and kiss his chest, dusted with dark and fine hairs.

 

She’s making him grunt and gasp, so Gale pulls her back up for more kisses.  Typically he doesn’t like to be out of control and tonight, Madge taking the lead is a whole new concept.  She loves it though, nipping at his lip and sucking on his tongue in the most lewd way possible.  

 

Normally their clothes would be off by now, but Madge doesn’t know what’s got a hold of her.  For some reason she can’t wait, she needs to feel him right now and can’t think about anything else.  When the kisses start to slow and Gale is hard between her legs, she doesn’t bother to undress him or herself.  Instead she grinds herself against his bulge, and immediately she gasps, not realizing how much she missed the feeling.

 

“Oh fuck,” he groans, and his eyes and locked on where their crotches are joined.  Madge’s dress rides up a bit so that he sees her little red, see-through panties rubbing against his pants.

 

It feels incredible, her sensitive clit grinding against Gale’s hardness.  She’s so caught up in the sensation that she starts to whimper, louder and louder with every wave of movement.  Madge’s arms leave his neck and instead, prop her up by being placed behind her, on his legs.  It gives her more mobility and it gives Gale more of a view.

 

And Gale doesn’t move his hips at all.  He just sits there with his hands lazily on her hips with starry eyes, mesmerized by her actions.  It’s moments like these that make her feel powerful, make her feel wanted.

 

She knows what his cock looks like, how it feels inside of her, and it makes her wet to think about it straining in his pants, dying to get out, feeling the dull sensation of her pussy rubbing it up and down.  Her hips are moving faster at this point, desperate for more friction but too lost in the moment to change positions.

 

It does the trick, nonetheless.  Soon Gale’s moaning back, putting more meaning in his arms that are guiding her hips down onto him.  Madge feels something spreading from her chest down towards her cunt, and soon she’s chanting, desperate for release.

 

“I’m so close, Gale, I’m so fucking close.  Please,” she begs, putting her hands against his on his waist and preparing for her release.

 

She’s practically mewling, jerking her hips erratically when they hear a loud clang from outside, and Madge immediately stops, frozen in horror.

 

“What the fuck is that?”

 

“The door,” Gale answers back, sounding more frustrated than scared.  “I guess someone decided to come home after all.”

 

“Is it your parents?” she asks, scared to confront them in this state, hair frazzled and dry humping their son.

 

“No,” he assures.  “They’re out of town visiting relatives with my youngest sister.  It’s one of my brothers, just wait here for a second, okay?”

 

Madge nods obediently, and Gale gets up from his position and adjust his pants.  Good thing they’re dark coloured, because Madge is sure she made a little wet spot on them from her arousal.

 

She listens closely at the footsteps, and Gale goes out to approach the figure.

 

“Rory?  I thought you had a sleepover.”

 

“I thought you were having friends over,” the brother snorts.  He sounds just like Gale, but his voice isn’t as deep.  “I knew you were lying about the whole ‘people actually like me’ thing.”

 

“I do have friends over for your information.”

 

“Then why is it so quiet?  Do you have literally  _ one _ friend?”  Rory is sarcastic and witty, Madge knows where it comes from.  There’s probably a silent exchange, because they don’t talk for a couple of minutes and then Rory speaks up again, more enthused than ever.  “Shit, really?  A girl?  I don’t think this was Mom and Dad’s idea of you branching out this year.”

 

“If you tell them you’re dead meat,” Gale threatens.

 

“Can I meet her?”

 

“I don’t think she wants to find out what the personification of grease looks like quite at this time.”

 

“Wait, is it the blonde one you always talk about with Thom?  What’s her name - Maddie?  Something with an M…”

 

“I highly suggest you stop talking,” Gale insists, but Madge just holds in her giggle.  She assumes Rory puts up his hands in surrender or something like that, because the conversation ends and Gale is back in his room in no time.

 

He rubs his hands on his face and laughs slightly, sitting back down on the bed.  Madge had taken the time he was gone to put herself back together, rearranging her hair and straightening out her dress.

 

“I guess there’s no hope of picking up where we left off them,” he jokes, and Madge laughs along.  Gale looks a bit in shame though.  “I’m so sorry this happened, trust Rory to ruin everything.”

 

“He didn’t ruin anything,” Madge comforts, edging closer to him and putting a hand on his cheek.  “I had fun, we had fun, then reality came back.  Don’t worry about it.”

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to finish?  You looked pretty riled up and -”

 

“There’s no way that I’m going to do that when your little brother is at home,” she dismisses.  “My dad sent me the number for my driver.  I’m going to text him now.”

 

Gale looks a bit saddened, he’s biting his lip as if he wants to say something and Madge senses his apprehension.  “What's wrong?”

 

“Don't you want this year to be different?  Less like last year and more like…”

 

“Right now?” she poses, finishing his sentence.  Madge agrees.  Tonight was magical, they're better together when they aren't sneaking around and leading each other on.  Gale wants it too be like this all the time, and she can't help but want the same thing.  “Even if we tried, I'm afraid I’d lose you.”

 

“That's not possible.”

 

“Yes it is.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

She sighs, unsure how to voice her insecurity.  “You know all that stuff you were saying?  About me letting my guard down when I’m with you and not being my true self around others?  I think… I think the opposite is true.  I’m not this person that you’re ‘so into.’  I'm not confident and sexy and honest and all of those things.  Everyone would tell you so, if they found out.”

 

“Madge, you do realize I love you for your humility and not your perceived perfection, right?”

 

At first she doesn't notice the word, just laughs at the truth of what he’s pointing out.  But when his sentence sinks in and it all clicks, Madge looks up at him with wide eyes.  “You love me?”

 

“Hard not too,” he responds casually.  She doesn't know how he always manages to be so composed.  “It's okay, you don't have to say it back.”

 

Madge throws herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and nestling her neck over his shoulder.  Maybe a hug isn't enough to follow up the words he just uttered, but Gale doesn't seem to care.  He buries his face in her neck and they stay that way for what feels like hours.

 

Afterwards they lie on his bed waiting for Madge’s driver to get there.  They face each other and he plays with her hair, and even though they made no verbal promises Madge knows that there's an unspoken one.  A promise to try this year, to stop hiding and sneaking around.  Some people find it thrilling but for her it’s just exhausting; she just wants some sort of normalcy in her senior year at Constance.

 

Of course, the year will probably end up being anything but normal.  But at least for now, they can keep on hoping.

 

* * *

 

 

_ Spotted: Princess M leaving an apartment late at night… in Brooklyn?  There’s only one pauper I can think of who belongs to  _ that  _ kingdom.  Don’t sweat it M, I’ll keep your secret.  xoxo, Gossip Girl. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Please let me know, I recognize that the setting was a bit different, it was fun to try things out!
> 
> P.S. Gale's home is totally the Humphreys' apartment, and when I think about the Mellark's place I think about the Bass penthouse.


	8. Vacation: Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a vacation fic, can you tell where I went for vacation this Christmas? Rated a soft M, I would say.

The sun is beating down on her in the best way possible, and when Madge lays her head down on her beach mat and nods on her sunglasses, she thinks she might actually be in heaven.

 

It’s so unlike the frigid temperatures back at home, and she feels her brain zoning out and her body falling asleep under the Hawaiian sun when of course, Johanna has to make a snide comment.  That girl’s not too fond of a lot of things, but she loves the sounds of her own voice.

 

“Madge, look,” she commands, nudging her sleeping friend and pointing at Thom and Delly who are literally only meters away from them.  They can hear her clear as day, but Madge thinks that’s probably the point.

 

“What?”

 

“I love Thom’s form of sun protection,” Jo deadpans, motioning at the way Delly is sitting between her boyfriend’s thighs with her head resting against his shoulder, laughing at something he whispered into her ear.  His arms are wrapped around her waist and she’s clearly lying directly in obstruction to the sun.  “There’s nothing quite like a Delly shaped tan as a souvenir from your vacation.  Where can I get one?”

 

“Jo, can you stop being bitter?” Thom asks with a fake desperation.  “You don’t have to vocalize your jealousy like this.  There are plenty of single people on this island for you to bother instead.”

 

“I”m not jealous.  I’ll take my SPF 100 over this formation any day.”

 

Delly laughs, and Madge is at least grateful that Johanna decided to pick on a couple like Thom and Delly, who are lighthearted and don’t take anything too seriously.  Instead of moving away from the hold of Thom, she turns her head all the way around to give him a wet, exaggerated French kiss and to run her fingers through his coarse hair.  Thom kisses her back hard and snakes his hands around her pale waist, clearly trying to make a show.

 

It has the desired effect, and Johanna gags.  “I’m being tortured.  Help me.”

 

Peeta, who’s in front of them on the beach with Katniss, who’s reading a book, turns around and pipes up.  “This vacation wasn’t meant to be torture for all of you single folk, okay?  If you didn’t want to be surrounded by couples then you didn’t have to come.”

 

He’s overreacting, and Johanna snickers.  All she wanted to do was provoke someone for fun anyways, and Peeta takes the bait with no question.  “And besides, why can’t you and Madge be more like Gale?  He’s single too, but he’s doing his own thing over there.”  Their blond friend points at Gale who’s in the water talking to some girls they don’t know.

 

Madge is surprised he brought up her name, and she motions at herself in shock.  “Me?  What did I ever do?”

 

“Yeah, you’re not telling us this is a couples only zone, are you, Mellark?  Because that would be just plain mean.  How aggravating,” Johanna comments, and Madge can’t help but laugh too.  They’re being slightly annoying, yes, but it’s amusing.  Besides, Madge isn’t usually like this, she’s normally an extremely nice person.  It’s just that Jo is an enabler for all her bad behaviours, and it’s all shits and giggles when people start taking themselves too seriously.

 

“Peeta,” Katniss sighs, looking up from her book.  “They’re just goading you.  They don’t mean anything they’re saying.”

 

He looks in a genuine amount of shock, and Madge feels slightly bad.  “What?”  Peeta questions.

 

Johanna nods vigorously, crossing her arms with a mock immaturity.  “Yup.  But you’ve already expressed your distaste for us, the damage is done.  Don’t worry, we won’t waste your air any longer.  Madge, beach walk?”

 

She nods, standing up and holding her strappy sandals in her hand.  She has a beach slip on over her dress and a huge floppy hat that really hinders her vision (which is alright, in the name of fashion).  A beach walk sounds like a great idea right now, especially because it’s getting kind of humid and the wind feels breezier when they’re moving.

 

“Madge, could you get me a Mai Tai?” Delly asks genuinely, and she has to nod.  It’s the least she can do for her friend for allowing Jo to be such a brat.

 

“Does anyone else want anything?” Madge asks to the group, but turns out Delly was the only one.  So Jo and Madge embark down the shores, slowly making their way to the beach bar to retrieve the beverage in the meantime.

 

The sand almost feels like a massage underneath their feet, and by the time they’re far enough from the group to not be heard, Gale’s figure grows closer, playing beach volleyball in the distance.

 

“I can’t believe Gale is the model single citizen,” Jo observes, crinkling her nose.  “Just because we aren’t in the water whoring it up doesn’t mean we aren’t good people.”

 

“Right?” Madge asks, agreeing completely.   Even though she and Johanna we’re being totally annoying for the sake of it, Gale is no better.  He’s barely been hanging out with the group, but not because he doesn’t like them.  Well, maybe he doesn’t like Madge.  But oh well, that’s not the point.

 

“Are you guys still not on speaking terms?”

 

“I don’t think we were ever on speaking terms,” she laughs sadly.  For as long as she could remember Gale’s always had some sort of grudge against her, for whatever reason.  Ever since they met, sharing a hall in the college dorms, he just hasn’t cared for her company or paid her much attention.

 

But Madge doesn’t mind it.  He seems like stubborn and opinionated bore, even if Thom and Katniss claim he’s an amazing friend and person.  She is fine enough hanging out with Jo and figuring out herself this holiday, not trying to get Gale Hawthorne to warm up at start tolerating her.

 

They get to the bar and order Delly’s drink, as well as some of their own.  Madge just orders the same thing Delly wanted, but Jo shakes her head while squeezing a lime into her Corona.

 

“Why is it suddenly socially acceptable to drink Mai Tai’s?”

 

“Because we’re in Hawaii,” she points out, gesturing to the sunny skies and clear waters.  “And they’re good.  Good for getting day drunk too.”

 

“I know, there’s nothing else to do on this resort except for getting smashed.  They have alcohol everywhere you go.”

 

Madge raises an eyebrow.  “Are you complaining?”

 

Johanna just snickers.  “God, no.  I’m hitting the club tonight.  Want to join?”

 

She thinks about it - whether she wants to get all dressed up and go flirt with strangers in a dark and crowded room.  Clubs were never her favourite place anyways, and Madge is still a little bit too jetlagged to participate in such a high energy activity.  Something that sounds more relaxing is a long session at the resort spa and a dip in the hot tub.  Yeah, that’s what she’ll do.

 

So Madge shakes her head and smiles.  “I’m good.”

 

“Suit yourself,” her friend responds, not smartly, but seriously.  The last couple months of school had been taxing for all of them, and part of the reason they chose this resort was because of its large number of activities.  Everyone relaxes differently, and Madge is just grateful that Delly managed to get the whole thing organized and booked for the group.  All the others had to do was pay the costs, and they were good to go.

 

The rest of Madge's evening is spent mostly in solitude.  She goes for happy hour with Thom and Delly for a while, when Johanna is relaxing in their room and getting ready to go out.  They're definitely the most fun and interesting couple she's ever met, and Madge loves observing their back and forth that somehow, keeps them in perfect harmony with each other.  They try to involve her in conversation too, and it's the perfect way to spend the early evening - sipping on martinis and joking around with two of her good friends.

 

"Do you guys have dinner plans?" she asks in conversation, and Thom looks at Delly with a smirk on his face.  His girlfriend shakes her head incessantly, and now Madge is curious.  "What?"

 

"Thom wants to go to a Luau," Delly whispers, acting amusedly embarrassed by this desire.  "Like a full out, hula dancing, fire swallowing, raw fish eating Luau."

 

"I think it'll be incredibly fun," he justifies, not understanding what's so ridiculous about the idea.

 

"Do it," Madge urges.  "It's not something you see back home, I'm sure you'll regret it when people are all asking about the Luau's you attended."

 

"That's what I said!"

 

Delly reclines and rolls her eyes, probably knowing that she's fated to attend a traditional Hawaiian luau.  "Well will you at least join us?  If you claim it'll be so much fun?"

 

"Oh no, not for me," she defends, realizing how hypocritical she sounds.

 

Thom pipes up.  "Why not Undersee?  We don't mind you tagging along.  We're not Peeta."

 

Madge giggles at that one, knowing that Peeta is getting more shit than he deserves.  He and Jo just don't get along, and she pushes all of his buttons.  "It'd be a waste of money, honestly.  I'm not hungry.  And parties aren't really my thing.  They never were."

 

"It's more of a ceremony than a fraternity house rager," Delly snorts.

 

"I know, I know, I just think I'll have more fun by the pool, reading a book or something, you know?  Don't worry about me guys, honestly.  Just have your fun and tell me all about it tomorrow morning? "

 

"Okay.  Hopefully we won't be too hungover from our wild  luau to make it to brunch," her friend teases, and Madge rolls her eyes, standing up from their spot on the restaurant patio and giving her goodbyes.

 

So she skips dinner and heads back to her suite to change for the pool, and by the time she gets there Johanna is already gone.  Surprising, because it's only past six o'clock, but Jo's the type to stretch out the night as long as possible.  The earlier, the better, she supposes.

 

The resort spa is practically empty, but filled with a handful of nice and talkative ladies willing to pamper Madge to extreme relaxation.  And since it's vacation, Madge treats herself to a facial and a full mani pedi, something she doesn't think she's done in years.  The creams all smell luxurious and the foot massages almost make her moan, and by the end of the night Madge is sitting in the sauna all relaxed with her blue toes and fingertips.

 

Madge hums to herself a little bit, just soaking in the warm moisture and the pleasure in her solitude.  It's not often that Madge feels happy alone, her brain is always infested by thoughts of how great a boyfriend would be and why she doesn't have one.  But right now, nothing is more soothing than the sound of her own breath and the idea of being on this island at all.

 

She stays in there as long as she can, until her heads starts to spin and she knows she's been in there too long.  Although the air outside is brisk, it's not too bad.  All she can think about is getting back to the room and changing into a cozy pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.  That would warm her right up.

 

Apparently Madge was in the spa for longer than she thought, because by the time she leaves the sky is pitch black and the resort, although it still has people milling about minding their own business, is quieter, more ambient than this morning.

 

When she gets to the door, she's about to pull out her room key and slip right into the comfy suite when Madge notices something already shoved into the slot.  This could only mean a handful of things, and none of them are particularly good for her.

 

She picks up the paper card and observes it: a points card for Sae's, a pie place near their school.  It's Jo's obviously, and there's only one little pie punched out of the card, she still has nine to go.  Jo was never the best at commitment, Madge thinks.  On the back in a scribbled note, and she's pleasantly surprised that her friend had the time to write a note, and that it's legible.

 

_ My dry spell is over.  Sorry Madgey, getting laid in here!!!  I guess you could go to Gale's room or something. Xoxo Jo _

 

Madge rolls her eyes, still slightly shivering in just her swimsuit and a towel.  How did she not predict this would happen? 

 

She’s exhausted, immensely cold and just desperate for a place to lay down.  Whether Jo was kidding or not about the whole Gale thing is a mystery to Madge, but she doesn’t care.  So in a thrilling turn of events, she walks down the hall slowly and deliberately to beg Gale Hawthorne for help.

 

First, she fraps on the door twice, two quick taps in succession that get straight to the point.  It’s too late for him to not be in this room at this hour, but he doesn’t come to the door.

 

“Gale?” she calls desperately, but to no avail.  Madge bites her fingernails and uses her other hand to knock on the door again, incessantly this time, not caring about respect or how annoying she must sound.  “Gale, could you get the door?  It’s Madge, I’m locked out of my room.”

 

Still no answer, and perhaps Gale really does hate her if he’s ignoring her to this extent.

 

She’s just about to start banging her head on the wall and screaming when someone rounds the corner and catches her off guard.  “Undersee?  Are you okay?” 

 

Madge whips around and sees; it’s Gale in full running gear and he still has a light sheen on his forehead, and she can see his fit body through his thin, sweatproof clothes.  In his hand is a large paper bag from a fast food chain and the smell of fried food hits her immediately after she sees him.  Her belly rumbles and she may have been hungrier than she thought.  Oh well.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she answers defensively.  It only makes Gale raise an eyebrow.  She’s the one here erratically knocking on his door, after all.  “I just - Jo locked me out of the room.  Well, she’s getting laid.”

 

That makes him laugh and scratch his head, they’re both thinking how typical this situation is.  “Well, I guess you could crash here for tonight.  Come on.”

 

His blatant kindness and willingness to help really shocks her, and Madge wanders into his room after him wondering if this is the same guy who ignores her in seminars and barely waves to her on the quad.  

 

The air is a bit heavy, and Madge knows it’s awkward.  His room looks barely unpacked, only a couple of his belongings have been set outside of his suitcase.

 

Gale coughs.  “Um, I’m just going to shower really quick.”

 

“Okay,” she shrugs.  “Do you have a shirt or something I can borrow?  Sorry, I was at the spa.”  It’s a sheepish explanation, but she feels silly standing there in her skimpy little bikini.

 

“Yeah, sure.  Just grab something from my suitcase, it’s all clean,” he nods, and with that he heads into the shower and Madge is left confused.

 

Opening his suitcase and digging around almost feels like an invasion of privacy.  It’s all neatly folded and smells like him, and Madge doesn’t want to mess it up or find something she shouldn’t so she just grabs the first t-shirt she sees at the top of a stack.

 

It’s worn and it smells like laundry detergent and his cologne, and something else that she can’t put a finger on.

 

She doesn't even have time to look at her reflection when Gale steps out of the bathroom wearing his boxers and a plain t-shirt like the one she dons.  It's a good thing that he thought to bring a change of clothes with him, because Madge isn't sure how she would've handled him with only a towel draped around his waist.

 

“Do you want some food?  I bought a lot of junk, probably enough for the both of us, honestly.”

 

Madge laughs softly.  “Why?”

 

“I was craving something fried after my run.”

 

"And don't you think it's counterintuitive to be eating junk food after exercising?"

 

"Hey, we're on vacation aren't we?" he responds, and Madge can only shrug in agreement.  "Besides, I'm going to start eating better, more fresh stuff.  It's one of my new year's resolutions, to work on my body."

 

Madge is about to say that he doesn't need it whatsoever, but instead she shovels a couple of fries into her mouth and relishes in the taste.  She really was hungry, and if Gale doesn't take over soon she's going to eat everything in the bag.

 

"I guess you didn't want to do anything too loud and action-packed either," she observes.  She'd think that Gale would want to go to the luau or go out mingling like Johanna.  It's what he was doing all day at the beach, after all.

 

"Yeah, I didn't feel like social interaction tonight," Gale chuckles, hopping onto the bed with his back leaning against the headrest.  He digs into the brown bag and pulls out his burger.  "Sometimes it's just better to be alone."

 

"I feel the exact same way."  It's profound how many similarities she can find between them.  The conversation keeps going and they talk about the stress of school, family, things like that.  It's mostly to kill time while eating food, something Madge feels barely justified doing.

 

"Are you sure you don't want me to pay you for half of this food?  I'm hogging."

 

"Please Undersee, don't sweat it.  It's my pleasure, honestly."

 

"Can I at least pay for something else for you?"

 

"Like what?" he asks, and Madge turns her eyes to the little fridge, tucked into the corner of the room.

 

"Like the minibar."

 

So they open the minibar and find copious amounts of snacks and alcohol.  Madge grabs a bag of M&M's and a bottle of wine, pouring the drink into the plastic cups the room has to offer.  She passes it over to Gale on the bed and places the empty bag of garbage onto the floor.  There's nothing between them now, and Madge decides she likes this better.

 

“It’s kind of sad that we’re graduating, isn’t it?” Gale asks while she pours him another glass.  “I’m going to miss everyone together like this.”

 

It feels strange to her that Gale sees them all: Katniss, Peeta, Delly, Thom, Jo and Madge as a gang.  He only really talks to Katniss and Thom about real things, he doesn’t open up as much.  But now Madge starts to understand that maybe he’s just more introverted like her.

 

She’ll still poke fun though, just because she’s a little buzzed.  “Yeah, I bet you’re really going to miss ignoring me in the dorms.”

 

His eyebrows scrunch up.  “You think I ignore you?”

 

“Don’t you?” she returns in confusion.  “It’s almost been four years.  I barely know you.”

 

“I thought you wanted nothing to do with me,” Gale admits, and it’s strange thought.  It’s a thought that makes Madge feel cold again sitting in his shirt, and she thinks hard at all their interactions, wondering when she could’ve gave him this idea.

 

For almost a minute they just stare at each other, Madge doesn’t know if she should apologize or say something, a promise maybe.  But none of them say anything, so she just clears her throat, tries to change the subject.  “Uh, are you doing more school after this year or finding work?”

 

“I want to find some internships, I think that’ll be more useful to me for now,” he explains.  “What about you, Undersee.”

 

“I applied for some master’s programs,” she nods, and she wants to slap herself at how mundane this conversation is.  The wine is going to her head yet still she can’t help but act as boring as ever.  Madge wishes she was exciting, better in some way.

 

“So Jo locked you out, huh?” Gale offers with an amused expression.

 

Madge rolls her eyes and giggles, shrugging slightly.  “Something like that.”

 

“I don’t know how you put up with her.”

 

“I love her though,” she insists.  At the end of the day, Johanna is there for her through everything.  She’s reliable when it counts.  “I’m really not upset about it either.  I’m having fun here, aren’t I?”

 

He’s looking at her with curiosity and smiles.  “Yeah, I’m happy you’re here too, Undersee.”

 

“How many glasses of wine did you have?”

 

Gale concentrates as if he’s trying to calculate it, but then gives up.  “I wasn’t keep count.  You?”

 

“Me neither,” Madge responds, wondering where that random question came from out of her mouth.  Her brain is jumping back and forth, and she remembers they were talking about Johanna.  “Wow, when Jo was telling me about going to the nightclub, I did not expect her to luck out.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I don’t know, haven’t seen too many prospects since we arrived,” she jokingly responds, and Gale chuckles along with her.  The room gets quiet and Madge looks at him curiously, and he goes exactly where she wants him to when he asks, “What about for you?”

 

Madge shakes her head adamantly, and Gale raises an eyebrow.  “I’m serious!  I don’t know, I don’t really see this vacation as that, more like trying to relax on my own, spend time with friends.”

 

“Are  _ we _ friends?”

 

“Of course,” Drunk Madge insists.  “At least we should be.  You’re so…” she starts, but she finds she can’t finish her sentence.  Gale Hawthorne is a lot of things, but she’s searching for a word.

 

But he kisses her before she can think of it, and she barely hesitates when he leans in to catch her lips and hold her head delicately from behind her neck.  Instead, Madge leans in and wraps her arms around Gale and his lean torso.  

 

It makes sense, at least it does right now.  They’re both lonely and tipsy, and Madge feels like if fate put them in this room together she might as well let him kiss her.   She didn’t realize she wanted this but she does; Gale feels solid and comforting and he kisses her like no one ever has.

 

Madge wants him everywhere, and she’s raking her hands up and down his abs, moaning for more when he pulls back.

 

“Wait,” Gale urges, and she stops herself from groaning in frustration.

 

“What?”

 

“I just- you’re drunk.  We both are.  I don’t think this is a good idea.”

 

“Have you never fucked anyone drunk before, Hawthorne?” she asks skeptically, failing to see the point.  She’s so cloudy with lust, the fact that they’ve stopped feels absurd.

 

“I have,” he answers defensively.  “But you’re not just some random girl.  You’re  _ Madge  _ and I-”

 

“Do you not want me?”  It could very well be true.  She knows that her curves aren’t as generous as others and that he’s never seemed to care about her until now.  If it’s a lapse of judgement, he should admit it.

 

“No, that’s not it.  Jesus, Undersee.  I’ve wanted you for so long.”  It sounds like a lie, one that Madge finds hard to believe, but he keeps going.  “We know each other, we see each other everyday.  We shouldn’t fuck that up.”

 

“It’s not like we talk to each other anyways,” she spits out, not meaning to sounds so bitter.  Gale’s face softens as if in apology, he’s toying with a strand of her hair.  

 

“Let’s just go to sleep, okay?  If you still want me in the morning, we can kiss all you like, I promise.”

 

And that’s when Madge realizes that maybe Gale is too scared to sleep with her.  Maybe he’s scared that she doesn’t really want him, that she’s just doing it all because she’s had a bit too drink.  It’s a valid fear, so she doesn’t say anything more.  She slips under the covers and faces out towards the wall.

 

Soon the sound of his breathing coaxes her to sleep, and it comforts her.  He better not have been kidding about his promise, because Madge is confident she’ll want him in the morning.  But will she be confident enough to do something about it?

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I hope you liked it! I'm going to post a second part soon, I know this was pretty inconclusive. I was going to write it all together, but when I said January would be busy for me I really wasn't kidding. Sorry if you'll be seeing less of my updates this month!
> 
> I always appreciate a kudos or a comment. <3


	9. Engagement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fluffy one. Rated T.

She’s always somewhat been a morning person.  Madge likes watching the sunrise and getting up before everyone else.  If she accidentally sleeps in the entire day is less whole and more lethargic.  Her boyfriend on the other hand, is not a morning person.  He’ll sleep until half the day is gone if she’d let him.

 

The light is just peeking into their apartment when she’s in the kitchen one morning.  Today she feels happy; she woke up for a run at the gym and now she’s making breakfast and listening to a violin concerto.  When Madge is finished making the coffee, Gale is still sleeping soundly in their room.  He’s snoring lightly on his back, so she sneaks back in and straddles him, shaking him awake.

 

“Gale,” she whispers, leaning forward and kissing his ear.  All she gets is a soft groan and his eyes are still closed.  So she kisses his neck and rakes her fingernails down her boyfriend’s chest.  “Baby, wake up.”

 

He looks so calm when he sleeps, and Madge can’t help but pepper his face with soft kisses.  One lands on his eyelashes and finally his eyes start to strain and peak open, making her smile.  She considers this a success.  “You’re going to be late for work, please wake up.”

 

She feels his hands lingering over her flimsy little shorts, and his second groan is one of a different kind of frustration.  He’s stirring between his legs.  “How am I supposed to get out of bed now?”

 

“You have to,” Madge half-heartedly tries to convince.  She wants him to stay in bed too, and she doesn’t protest at all when he flips her over.  Gale’s hovering over her and his hands are stroking her stomach and moving upwards towards her breasts.  It makes her sigh, and she thinks they can afford just a couple more minutes of play.

 

Moving in together over a year ago was the best decision ever.  Now, despite their busy schedules Madge and Gale spend more time together than ever.  After work they eat late dinner with each other, sitting on the touch and eating out of take out boxes together.  It almost doesn’t feel like adulthood, but it is.  It’s been a long time since college, and the only thing still constant is the two of them.

 

“What are you going to do to me?” she asks with wide eyes and a fake innocence.

 

“I haven’t decided yet,” he replies playfully, and his grey sparkle.  His mouth trails her neck and laps at the skin, making Madge gasp and cling to him.  She still hasn’t gotten bored of him.  Gale’s kisses are still surprises and his words still make her giddy, and she gladly lets his hands roam up her torso as her shirt rides up.

 

He has a way of blanking her mind, and Madge is just about to give it all up when she flips him back over and tugs on his shirt so that he’s sitting up.  Their noses brush.

 

“You really should get up,” she whispers, sort of hating herself for it.  It’s not her fault she’s always mindful of time.

 

So she convinces Gale to get up and they eat breakfast together, sitting on their couch and sipping mugs filled with coffee.  They’re sharing an omelette and Madge loves every second of it.  Spending time with him right now is everything she needs to get through the rest of the day.

 

“Do you have class today?” he asks in conversation.  Madge has been working on her post graduate degree while Gale’s been working, and therefore their schedules rarely align.

 

She nods.  “I have to run errands in the morning and I have a lecture at 3.”

 

“I’m working full day,” Gale shrugs, and Madge can’t help but frown.

 

“Do you want to meet for lunch?”

 

“Can’t, sorry.  We have clients coming in for meetings, I think we’re doing a luncheon.”

 

He’s usually able to make out a bit of time to grab a coffee and chat, but Madge understands.  She makes a mental note to call Delly and make lunch plans instead, she hasn’t seen her friend in quite some time after all.

 

“That’s fine,” she smiles as Gale puts the empty plate down on the table since the food is gone.  He takes her mug from her hands and puts it down on the coffee table too, then wraps his hands around her waist and pulls her into him.  Gale’s humming a tune, a sign that he’s feeling happy today, and his face is nestled in her hair when he spoons her on their ratty couch that they bought at a second hand store when they first moved it.  

 

“I love you,” he murmurs into her hair, and Madge’s smile grows and grows unbeknownst to him.

 

“I love you too,” Madge laughs with certainty, and even if they aren’t going to see each other all day, they’ll be together again at night, and this whole day is starting to become even better.

 

* * *

 

“God, your relationship is so sappy, I can’t stand it,” Delly deadpans, and Madge frowns jokingly at her friend’s remark.

 

“As if your relationship isn’t sappy.”

 

“It really isn’t.  Thom and I just make fun of each other and fuck.”

 

“That sounds unhealthy,” she remarks obviously, scrunching her nose.

 

“But it’s my truth!  And it’s not sickeningly sweet, which really was my point.”

 

They just grabbed lunch at a place downtown, and now they’re walking through the commercial streets, staring into storefronts despite the cold weather.  Delly’s job is at a boutique shoe store not far from here, and Madge is thankful that they’re both in the same city and are able to make lunch plans more often than not.

 

“When do you have to get back?”

 

Her best friend shrugs.  “Doesn’t really matter.  I’m practically my own boss.”

 

They walk for a little bit longer until Madge remembers an important point about their conversation they were having.  “My relationship with Gale isn’t _that_ sappy.”

 

Delly laughs, “It took you that long to find something not sappy about your relationship?”

 

“No, I’m just saying.  We’re not that sappy.  I don’t know, we’re just doing really good right now.”

 

“What about that stuff you were saying?  About Gale always being really busy?” she interrogates, and Madge shrugs.  Sometimes Gale is gone for the whole day and doesn’t have time to think about what it does to her, but she gets it.  There’s no way she’s going to be _that_ girlfriend who insists on him making time for her, even if it’s for his job.

 

“Busy is his resting state.  I’m coping.”

 

“Is he busy right now?”

 

“Mhm.  He has a luncheon or something.  Which is weird, Beetee never usually makes him do that kind of thing,” Madge ponders out loud, more for logistical reasons than any curiosity.

 

“Spooky,” Delly jokes, widening her eyes humorously.  They go into a few stores, browsing through the expensive and brand name items.  They’ve wanders into the designer block of shops, and even if they’re not going to buy anything it’s still fun to just look.

 

They pass a jewelry store, a French one with beautiful displays and Delly just about swoons.  She mocks the way Madge and Gale act, but it’s clear that she wouldn’t mind a little bit of sap in her life either.

 

“Look at these pendants, Madge,” she sighs, and Madge nods taking marginal interest.  She doesn’t wear that much jewelry; she has her aunt’s pin and a couple of other old items, but it’s not something she invests in.  “We should go in,” her friend offers.

 

“Do we have to?  I hate jewelry stores.  The workers there are always too eager, I feel like they stalk me and pressure me to buy things.”

 

But it’s too late, Delly’s already rounding the corner prepared to go in and have a look when they collide with a body.

 

Madge automatically sputters out an apology.  “Holy shit I’m so sorry we - Gale?”

 

It’s her boyfriend, looking wide eyed and scared.  He’s in his work clothes and Madge instinctually questions his excuses he gave her this morning.

 

“Gale, what are you doing here?  I thought you had meetings.”

 

“Madge, I-”

 

“No.  Answer my question, why did you lie to me?”

 

For some reason, Delly doesn’t look offended, instead she has a shocked yet happy look on her face, and Madge doesn’t get it.  Is she crazy for questioning her partner’s word when he’s out shopping instead of where he said he would be?

 

Her brain jumps to the extremes.  “What are you doing here?  Are you not working at the firm anymore?  Is it another woman?  Because I really just want the truth and you can tell me if I’m overreacting but I just need to-”

 

“Madge,” he calls firmly, reaching one hand out to take hers.  “You’re overreacting.”

 

“Oh,” she sighs, still confused but less distraught.  “Did the meeting get cancelled or something?  I mean, we aren’t close to your office but I guess if you wanted really good sushi you would come here.”

 

“Madge,” Delly scolds with wide eyes, nodding her head down at Gale’s hand.  She looks down and there’s a red bag in his hand.  One with the jewelry store that they were going into’s brand printed on the side, and Gale looks as flustered as she is for some reason.  He rakes his fingers through his hair, a sign that he’s anxious.

 

“What?” she breathes out in utter confusion.  “What is happening?”  She has clues but doesn’t want to say them out loud.

 

Delly rolls her eyes.  “It’s a-”

 

“Ring,” Gale finishes.  “It’s an engagement ring.  Fuck, I really wasn’t counting on bumping into you right now.”

 

“A ring?” she repeats out loud.  Her breath is catching in her throat and she hopes they’re not causing too much of a scene.  “For me?”

 

“Yeah, Undersee.  A ring for you.  I wanted to do it right, take you out for dinner and pop the question, but I guess the secret is out.”

 

“Jesus Christ,” Delly curses to no one in particular.  “Not that sappy.  Okay.”

 

“Do you want to see it?” he asks nervously, clutching the small box in his hand and looking around.  He starts to get down on one knee as if it’s the only option, but Madge pulls him back up.

 

“Gale!  Don’t do that,” she commands through her teeth, really not keen on causing a scene right now.  People are already staring as they walk by, a public proposal is the last thing that introverts Gale and Madge would want.

 

“Why?  Do you not want to?”

 

“No, I do.  I really do,” she reassures, then realizing her choice of words.  “I- um, I want to marry you.  I just can’t do this cliche, proposing-in-the-middle-of-the-street thing.”

 

“Okay,” he states, nodding to comfort himself.  He probably agrees with her anyway.  “I’ll save it for later, I guess.”

 

They’re both confused and awkward, not really sure how this engagement thing works.  The circumstances are less than ideal, but finally it hits her; Gale bought a ring, and he wants to be her husband.  He went out during his lunch break to buy the ring, and she and Delly caught him redhanded.

 

Madge knows that “saving it for later” is just a sentiment, because she already knows his proposal, and he knows her answer.  So she hugs him tight, not wanting to let go and feeling the way his body presses against hers.

 

“Sorry,” he mumbles after some time, and she draws back.

 

“For what?”

 

“I feel like I messed this up somehow.  It wasn’t supposed to go like this, in my head.”

 

“Don’t worry about that,” she pleads, tears already welling up in her eyes.  “Gale, I love you more than anything.  I don’t care how you ask, I just want to be yours.”

 

Despite her earlier protests, she can’t even formulate words when he opens the velvet box, revealing a beautiful ring with two bands and a simple stone in the centre.  She gives him her hand and he tries to put it on but they’re both shaking.  Madge can barely contain herself and when Gale finally manages to get it on it’s a perfect fit, and this truly is one of the best days.

 

When the moment is done, Delly gives her a huge hug and she looks like she has a tear welling up too.  They embrace and Madge is relishing in the moment, happy that her best friend was here for the moment when Delly whispers in her ear.

 

“So fucking sappy, you two can’t help it at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you guys don't know, I started a new story! It's based off of a one-shot in this compilation, the Single Parents AU. So if you enjoyed that one, be sure to go show some love on the fic, it's called "Taking Turns"! The first chapter is pretty much the exact same as the one-shot, but Chapter 2 is coming on Wednesday and it's going to be lots of fun. I hope you join me over there. :)
> 
> Also, I'll probably be writing a lot of fluff here for the next few months because Taking Turns is so much marginal angst, I need to balance it out aha. I'm such an impatient Gadge writer, I always want to see them together!


	10. Love after a time of war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madge, a nurse at the end of the Great War meets a young, wounded soldier in her hospital in France. This is their story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first historical piece! I tried to be accurate with dates, places and the symptoms of some medical conditions, but I can't promise it's all accurate, I build the facts around my original idea.

**_Rouen, France - 1918_ **

 

“Madge, it’s over.  I swear it’s over,” Mags Flanagan shouts.  The head nurse is shaking the girl, barely able to contain her joy when she pulls her in for a hug.

 

Everyone in the hospital is either cheering or in absolute shock.  Madge is the latter, she lets Mags throw her arms around her tightly with no reaction, only wide eyes and a loud, beating heart.  “It just doesn’t feel real.”

 

“But it is, girl.  Our boys can finally go home.  We’ve won.”

 

Madge has only been deployed as nurse for almost a year, but the war has been going on for years before that.  Her entire teenage life was watching the horrors happening in Europe unfold in the daily news and on the radio.  It’s what caused her to sign up for the nurses corps as soon as Wilson declared America was joining the fight.

 

And Madge never considered herself a healer, she grew up to privilege that shielded her from those who were hurting.  But when she thought about those wounded soldiers and civilians, she knew she had to at least try.  For them, but also in a way for herself.

 

Perhaps the reason she’s in a state of disbelief is because there’s still so much work to be done.  There are still men lined up on the hospital beds with every wound and illness imaginable, and Madge knows the nurse will still be here working hard for many months to come.

 

Her weariness is warranted too.  A couple days after joyous celebration for the armistice and positive emotions pulsing through the hospital, a team of Red Cross soldiers come back with bodies, apparently still alive, found in the trenches.  The short-lived happiness is gone and then solemn weary tone of dying soldiers comes back far too soon.  Madge looks at the men they’re carrying in onto the hospital beds, covered in mud and some of them moaning in pain.  Knowing that this means she has to do her job now, and well, she heads over to her station and scans the man on her bed.

 

“Condition?” she asks routinely.

 

“Mustard gas poisoning, we suspect it burned the inside of his throat.  That’s the major problem, but there’s also a bayonet wound on his right arm.”

 

The soldier’s arm is heavily bandaged and when Madge lifts it slightly to take a look, she sees dark oozing flesh and flinches.  Even if she is a nurse, infections still unsettle her.  She’s going to have to clean it, and she is thankful that he looks to be asleep, or in a coma.  He won’t be shouting in pain when she presses iodine to the stab wound.

 

“Thank you, I can take over now,” she nods, thanking the Red Cross member and immediately grabbing a towel to soak in the warm water bath.  

 

Madge wrings it out methodically and steps over to the head of the cot, and she begins to wipe away the mud and the grime from his face.  Underneath it all, the man looks peaceful, she notices his long eyelashes and his coarse, dark hair.  He looks like he is just taking a nap after a long day, not like he’d been brutally attacked in the trenches just days ago.  If they were in a different circumstance, perhaps if Madge had ran into him in a coffee shop back in Baltimore or if he’d asked her out to the movies, she would’ve thought him to be rather handsome.  But she doesn’t have time for that right now, not when his body is failing him and she needs to save him.

 

The medical team that found him did a good job of taking care of his skin, it looks clean enough, they probably wiped it off to prevent too many blisters.  His torso is wrapped in a wool blanket, and when she unwraps it to take a look there are only a few that have formed on his tan skin.  So Madge starts to wash him in a solution made to treat gas poisoning like this.  Hopefully it will do something to soothe the pain he must be feeling behind his eyelids.

 

After a day, the biggest problem becomes the fact that this soldier isn’t waking up.  He barely stirs, and when Madge sits on the chair at his bedside she only feels reassures by the gentle rise and fall of his chest.  He’s comatose, that much is certain.  The nurses have seen countless cases of comatose patients that just wouldn’t wake up, but Madge hopes this one is different.  The war is over, the suffering should’ve ended.  She does all she can, cleaning his skin and taking care of the bayonet wound as her job intends.

 

“How is he doing?” asks Nurse Cresta one day as she passes by her makeshift hospital room.  The beds are only separated by dividers and curtains in a large hall but the nurses still try to value the privacy of the soldiers.

 

“He’s healing well,” Madge replies, perhaps trying to convince herself more than her friend.  “The infection is dying down.  Perhaps he’ll awaken soon.”

 

“How long has it been?”

 

“The man from the Red Cross said that he was stirring when they rescued him.  So I suppose it’s been four days?  Five?”

 

Annie looks hesitant.  Comas that last that long are usually helpless.  Before the war ended, they didn’t have time to treat comas that lasted that long.  There were men coming in everyday requiring immediate attention, the soldiers who wouldn’t wake up were taken away, brought to a different hospital to heal, apparently.  Madge has no idea what really happened to them, but she’s grateful the stream of aching bodies has ended, so that she can watch over this one.

 

Madge considers it a blessing, the fact that she can look after him properly.  Each day she sits by the foot of his bed, observing him in his unconscious state.  Occasionally he stirs, squinting his eyes and bobbing his Adam’s apple in a way that make Madge jump up and prepare for him to wake up, but every time he doesn’t open his eyes.  She sighs, heading back to her seat and continuing to wait.

 

And she wants to know his name too.  She wants to know so that she can write it on the stupid patient information card and say it to herself in her head.  A handful of generals come by trying to identify some of the dead bodies and the unknown soldiers, but when Madge ushers them in to try and name her sleeping man, the effort is fruitless.

 

“Are you sure you don’t recognize him?  Not by name, just by division, rank, anything?”

 

“That’s not how it worked in the trenches, Missus,” one man explains to her.  “I know my own corps, never saw anyone else.  I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”

 

She knew it was true before the asked the question.  It was a stupid one, but she’s desperate to help him at this point.  He has a family, friends, maybe even a wife that loves him dearly and they deserve to know that he’s safe.

 

Madge has never found the need to be an optimist, always trying to be pragmatic in the facets of her life.  But right now she needs to see the better outcome and convince herself of things that don’t even make sense, because everything around her is telling her otherwise.

 

“He’s not waking up,” Clove asserts one day while she passes by with a cart of clean towels.  “It’s almost been two weeks, you can’t believe that he’ll wake up now.”

 

“Why not?  He’s still breathing and his wounds are practically healed.  He has to.”

 

“Why do you need him to wake up anyway, Madge?”

 

“Because I am a decent human being?  And a nurse.  It’s my job.”

 

“As long as you don’t confuse your job with your feelings, Madge,” her colleague points out.  She really is that transparent isn’t she?  “He probably has a girl at home, maybe even kids.  Don’t fantasize a little story for him if you don’t know the real one.  You’ve done everything you could,  _ that _ was your job.”

 

Clove is right, nothing good is pointed her way.  And yet Madge stays as she is.  She writes home telling her parents that she’s planning on coming home after at least two more months, and she continues to change all of his bandages, even when the wounds are practically healed with only bumpy scars in their place.

 

Her soldier’s state makes her cry.  Once at night, right before she was ready to retire for the evening, she looks back at him sleeping peacefully with his arms to the side.  Over the weeks he’s been here his beard has grown out quite substantially, a thick dark mass of hair that doesn’t detract from his good looks, but Madge strokes his face nonetheless.

 

“Please,” she whispers.  “Please live.”

 

Partially she wants it because the war is over.  For him, it’s because he needs to go home and celebrate the victory.  But for her, Madge can’t lose her last patient.  That would do awful things to her hope, she needs to save him so that she can sleep at night.  But also, there’s that other thing, that thing Clove alluded to.  This man holds a mystery that she has to solve, and she’s drawn to him in a way that she can’t describe.

 

She prays and she prays.  Madge never really listened at Sunday School and she always peaked her eyes open when her father was giving grace before a meal, but she thinks the best thing right now is to pray.  In her sleep she whispers to whoever is up there and begs for his recovery.

 

She begs even when everyone says it’s useless.

 

She begs even when she doesn’t know this man at all.

 

But the strangest thing happens.

 

One day, while she’s sitting in her compartment at the foot of the cot and reading a book that Delly sent to her so long ago, he begins to stir.

 

It’s unlike the way he used to fidget in his coma, but Madge sees his fingers twitching and eyelids blinking.  Immediately she goes to fetch a glass of water, a warm towel, anything he might need.  

 

His eyes fly open after a couple of minutes.  Madge stands back not wanting to confuse him, but soon he’s reaching for his throat, either trying to speak or because he is thirsty.  She tends to both.

 

“Don’t speak, don’t try,” she urges, coming up beside him and noting his fear of his surroundings.  “Don’t fret, please.  Your throat is still swollen from inhaling the mustard gas, it might be hard to speak.  Please, drink this water.”

 

He takes it and sips it gently, wincing at the feeling of something cool sliding down his throat.  Although he’s been responsive in his sleep and she’s been able to feed him soft foods down his throat, it’s definitely different when he’s awake and aware.

 

“You’ve been at a hospital in Rouen for three weeks now.  The war is over, the allies have won.”

 

He doesn’t believe her; she can see it in his grey eyes that he doesn’t believe her.  She’s opened them countless times with a light shining on them hoping for dilation when he was in a stupor.  Now that they’re fully open and curious, they look even more shocking than before, glassy and deep like a mirror in a dark room.

 

“Please, could I get your name sir?” she asks, handing him a pad of paper and a pencil.  “I need your name so I can contact the army, so I can help you find your family and let them know you’re okay.”

 

His hand is shaky when he holds the pencil, and it looks as if he needs to concentrate extremely hard when he begins to write.  It’s barely legible and the letters are wiry, but Madge makes it out.   _ Gale Hawthorne. _

 

It makes her smile.  This man she’s been looking after for almost a month, he has a name and it’s Gale.  She feels a warm hand nudging her arm, and when she looks up he’s nodding back at her, asking for a name too.

 

“Madge,” she responds.  “You can call me Madge.”

 

His recovery is quick after that.  Madge helps him walk around the hospital and they communicate through a notepad where he asks for help and talks to her.  Gale is quite the flirt, from what she can tell through his notes.  If he has a girlfriend back home, she’s lucky.

 

Sometimes, he doesn’t ask for anything health related and just asks for company.

 

_ “What were you doing before the war?”  _ he asks one day, written sloppily on the notepad.  It’s a miracle that he’s left handed, otherwise Madge doesn’t know what they would’ve done with the muscles and tendons in his bayonet wound still healing.

 

“Nothing,” she admits.  “I was attending an all-girls school in Connecticut.”  Gale looks surprised, not too many girls bother going to high school at all, let alone during wartime.  He cocks up one brow and Madge nods.  “My parents were always occupied with other, busier things.  I suppose they had the funds to send me away, so I did.  I was home for the holidays when I decided to join the Nurse Corps.”

 

_ “So how old are you?” _

 

“I’ll be 19 in the spring,” she responds.  “And yourself, Mr. Hawthorne?”

 

_ “21,”  _ he scrawls.  

 

Madge is surprised.  That’s still rather young, and they are close in age.  “And why did you enlist?”  She waits eagerly for his answer, observing the way he bites his lip and furrows his brow as he writes.

 

_ “Family needed the money.  I enlisted as soon as Wilson announced that we were joining the Allies.” _

 

“How’s the throat?” she asks sympathetically, nodding at it.  They haven’t even tried to help him talk yet out of the fear that it would hurt too much.  Gale just shrugs, he probably thinks this waiting is stupid anyway.  “We’ll rest it for a bit longer and then try speaking in a couple days,” Madge promises, wanting to satisfy him and keep him happy.

 

But as she will learn, Gale Hawthorne has no patience.  She’s walking through the hall in the morning when she hears someone call her name.  Automatically she turns to Head Nurse Mags, but the old woman is just smiling and looking down at a patient.

 

“Mags?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Did you call for me just now?”

 

“No, it was your soldier, Madge.  He’s speaking.”

 

She hurries over to their divide and sees him sitting upright, breaking his pencil in half.  Madge almost laughs, but instead hurries to him side.

 

“You’re speaking.”

 

“I think I’ve been alright for days,” he chuckles, and suddenly she’s guilty for making him stay silent and use that awful notepad.  “Don’t worry though, thank you for thinking about me on that one.  Would’ve been bad if I wasn’t ready, right?”

 

Madge nods slowly, taking in the way he sounds.  His voice is gruff yet smooth, his accent is similar to hers.  She thinks he might be from Massachusetts or Maryland, but she’ll ask him soon enough.

 

“Um,” she tries to start, but she’s smiling too hard.  “Uh, did you want anything?  Was there a reason you called for me?”

 

“Yeah, I was hoping you could help me with shaving today,” he answers, glancing down at the untrimmed beard that’s been left uncouth for weeks now.  Madge is still in awe at the way he speaks to her, his humour that barely translated onto paper is evident in his antonation.  She zones out for a while just thinking about it before Gale calls her name and brings her back.

 

Madge shakes her head at how absurd she’s being.  “Yes, yes of course.  We can do that.  Do you want me to just bring you soap and a razor?  Or do you need me to assist you.”

 

Gale raises his good hand, showing the way it trembles.  “That might be a good idea.  I mean, I’m not scared of blades or anything, I’m just shakey.”

 

“Alright.  We can go to the lavatory, come,” she beckons.  Gale walks to the lavatory while she grabs the equipment they need, and soon Madge is rubbing soapy foam into his beard and giggling while Gale stands over the sink.  “Does it tickle?”

 

“No, you’re fine,” he replies.  His eyes are trained onto his reflection and Madge concentrates on the task at hand, but every so often she sees him glance over at her and she purposely looks away trying to hide her smile.

 

Under his beard there are tiny nicks and scars across his jaw.  Madge instinctively touches them, rubbing them with her thumb and looking at them with apprehension.  Already, she hates thinking about the pain he’s gone through, no matter how small.

 

“They’re just shaving cuts,” he explains when he notices her fixation on them.  “In the trenches they made us shave, but I only had this dinky old mirror that I shared with three other guys and a dull blade.  Wasn’t able to do a good job like you can.”

 

Madge bites her lip and shrugs at the odd compliment, not speaking until his scruff has disappeared.  She wipes the fresh chin with a warm towel and throws it to the side.  “There, you’re all handsome and done.”

 

Gale cocks his head to one side and looks at her fondly.  “Was I not handsome before?”

 

“You were,” she jibes back.  “Perhaps like a handsome caveman.”

 

“Shush,” he laughs, shaking his head.  For a second while she cleans up, and he helps her to wring out the towel and wash away all the hair they share a moment of silence.  After a while, when the razor and the towel are all in her tub and they should be walking back to the hall, he clears his throat.  “So, you gotta bimbo back home?”

 

“A boyfriend?  No, I don’t, boarding school made that kind of hard,” she jokes.  “And yourself?”

 

“Naw.  No time for that when I was working three jobs, I guess,” Gale replies, and Madge sympathizes for what sounds like a hard time back at home.  She hopes the war changes things; he’s a veteran now, and veterans get a bunch of things from the government even if it meant almost sacrificing their life.  But the purpose of this line of questioning is not lost to either of them.  Gale walks back grinning all the way through, and Madge tries to hide hers until she walks away to leave him be.

 

And Madge keeps trying to help him find his family or his higher up so that they know where to ship him home.  He told her than he was in the 12th division of the infantry, that was helpful information, but she keeps failing to come in contact with the commander, a Major General H. Abernathy.

 

Gale is getting better, and she supposes that’s what’s important.  Except she sees that the minute he’s of good health they’ll ship him off and bring him across the Atlantic even if they haven’t contacted his family or the army so that he could be dispatched from their record books.  The thought makes her lethargic, unwilling to keep talking to him if it just means more pain, but she could never do that.  She loves talking to him, and she’s assume that he’s the same.

 

He tells her about his family, his siblings and his widowed mother who was left to fend on her own.  And Madge’s heart breaks for him and the reason he decided to enlist, but with one look at his crew cut and his toned body anyone could only guess that he’s been a soldier his entire life.

 

And she tells him about her life at school and at home, how she loves Baltimore but her parents always make her go out of state to study.  

 

“There’s corner of the city, where there’s a library on one corner, a candy store on another and on a third, a block of apartments, it was right next to Druid Park,” Madge explains one day while she’s sitting on the side of his cot.  “When my aunt used to take me around downtown, I used to think,  _ ‘Gee, wouldn’t it be perfect to live there, work there, and go to the candy store for dinner?’ _ ”  She giggles at the thought.

 

“Do you still want to be a librarian?”

 

“Maybe,” she shrugs.  “Who knows what will happen now that this war is done.”

 

It’s fully winter outside so they have nowhere to go, but one night Madge notices that a private hospital room is lit from the inside.  It’s the rooms that they would give to the severe patients, but now there are only a few more nurses and soldiers lingering in the French hospital.

 

When she peaks in she sees him, lighting a candle with a match that almost burns him.

 

“Gale?” she asks softly, and he raises his head with a smile.  “What is this?”

 

“It’s Christmas Eve,” he answers obviously, and Madge is at a loss for words.  He’s taken the sloppy meal that the chef prepared for them and set them neatly on plates with chunks of stale bread.  “You didn’t forget, did you?”

 

“No, I didn’t-” she starts, but decides to be honest.  “Yes, I forgot, unfortunately.  But I think you compensate for the two of us.”

 

He shrugs shamelessly.  “That’s probably true.  Come, sit down,” he says, motioning her over to the bedside table where the food is set up.  Everything is there, even a bottle of wine.

 

“How’d you manage this?” Madge asks while laughing, observing the label of the expensive French wine.  

 

“It was somewhere deep in the kitchen cellar.  It’s probably been sitting there for years, before the war for sure.  But they get better with age, don’t they?  I think I heard that from somewhere once.”

 

They dine and it’s wonderful - not because the food is particularly good, it’s only slightly better than the food they eat on a daily basis.  Perhaps the cook took sympathy tonight, it  _ is _ Christmas afterall.  The wine is probably good, Madge knows she should enjoy it but she hasn’t tasted enough wine and liquor to get used to it.  She winces at the first sip and so does Gale, which makes them both laugh.

 

“I thought it’d be a good idea,” Gale admits sheepishly after he returns with two glasses of water.

 

“It was.  It just wasn’t perfect in practice.  Our fault, of course.” 

 

“I feel bad though.  Our palettes are so… undeveloped.”

 

Madge snickers, looking up at Gale through the candlelight to observe his expression.  He’s relaxed and boyish, exactly like she thought he’d be like when she first saw his sleeping face.  When he notices her staring though his face softens into something else, something more solemn and serious.

 

“You’re really beautiful, you know that?”

 

She doesn’t even bother to hide her blush, laughing defensively and shrugging it off.

 

“Madge, I’m serious.  You’re so beautiful, like a bluebell or a sunrise.  I could look into your eyes all day.”

 

Madge swallows hard and nods.  If it was any other circumstance she’d be flattered, but right now she’s just sad that this is all not real, that it will all go away soon.  “You’re beautiful too.”

 

“If we were back home I’d ask you out, take you to the local diner and treat you right.”

 

“Gale, I don’t like ‘what if’s’ and I-”

 

“But I would, I’d get to hold your hand and kiss you like I mean it and not feel guilty about it.  I’d feel proud, you know?”

 

“If you keep going you’re going to make me cry,” she threatens truthfully, because she feels her breath catching and tears swelling in her eyes.  Gale take a step back then, breathing out and sighing.  He looks like he knows something she doesn’t, but she doesn’t bother to ask.

 

“Okay,” he concedes after a while.  “But just know that I meant all of that okay?  I meant it.”

 

They finish their dinner peacefully and go to sleep in their own rooms, leaving the mess to clean for tomorrow.  Madge sleeps with dreams that Gale cruelly planted in her head, dreams of seeing him in the streets and taking him home to meet her parents.  They would’ve loved him, but she vows to tell him tomorrow that they can’t talk like that.  Not when they’re parting ways so soon, not when reality is coming back.

 

Madge means to do so the next morning, but she can’t even hold in her gasp when his cot is empty and made the next morning.  The sheets are pressed, his clothes are gone, everything is different and the air feels heavy.

 

She runs to find a nurse, anyone who will know what’s going on.

 

“Clove!  Clove, have you seen Mr. Hawthorne.  His bed’s empty.”

 

“He left last night, got on the first ship back.  I think his general got in contact with him and made arrangements last week,” her fellow nurse responds with no emotion, until the question really registers.  “Wait, didn’t he tell you this?  He’s been talking to Mags about getting him to the seaside for days.”

 

“No, he didn’t say anything to me,” she cries, appalled that this is happening.  That means that he’s gone, it means that he isn’t coming back.  He said all those things to her because he was leaving, and couldn’t bear tell her.  And now he’s on his way to the sea, where he’ll be shipped back to America forever.  She hadn’t even gotten the chance to ask where he was from.

 

Madge runs back to the private room where they dined yesterday and it’s all tidied up.  There’s no trace of him anywhere, it’s almost as if he was just a ghost who came and left.  The tears can’t be held back at this point, they’re uncontrollably falling to the floor and all over her uniform.  

 

She steps closer and there’s a note on the bed, folded and left there with the bottom half of a wooden pencil that was once hers.

 

_ I’m a coward, I’m sorry Madge. _

_ Please remember my words, and wait for me. _

 

_ Gale. _

 

It doesn’t make sense, none of this make sense.  If his message was supposed to help her in some sort of way it hasn’t.  Instead it twists her insides and makes her sob.  Madge sits on the edge of the bed to balance herself and fold the note neatly so that her tears don’t stain it any further.

 

Her heart feels bruised and nothing is certain except for one fact: Gale is gone, and Madge is grieving.

 

* * *

  
  


**_Baltimore, One Year Later_ **

 

Madge is surprised how quickly she got the job at the library, she barely needed to fill out any forms and started to be paid a decent salary.  It’s not enough to get by, but she’s staying at her parents’ home while she’s living in the city anyways.

 

Every morning she walks a long way to the busy downtown library and begins to file books.  She takes the ones that people read and put them back in their designated shelves.  Even if it slows her down sometimes she’ll crack them open and take a look and file the interesting ones away in a bottom shelf of books she needs to read on her own time.

 

She had returned from France just a couple weeks after Christmas morning, her family was overjoyed to have her home, unscathed.  When she brought up the idea of staying in town rather than going back to Connecticut they had no objection either, and in fact her father offered his advice for the interview she had scheduled for the following week.

 

Today, she’s organizing the library cards, sorting the envelopes and making sure that they’re properly labelled in the side office.  It’s a slow day, week days usually are, so there’s only only lady at the information desk readily available.

 

Madge doesn’t expect anything interesting when the doorbell chimes, signalling that a patron has walked in.  She doesn’t even acknowledge the low muttering chatter happening between the customer and the other librarian until his voice grows louder.

 

“Are you sure she doesn’t work here?  Or maybe, have you seen her around.”

 

“I’m sorry Sir, I don’t know any Madge around here.”

 

Her ears perk up and she heads outside to see who’s here to find her.  Probably a childhood friend or a neighbour, no one ever calls her by her nickname anymore.

 

“Is someone here looking me?” she asks with eyes pointed at her colleague.

 

“No Margaret, this man is mistaken, he’s just-”

 

“Madge,” he calls, and finally her eyes fly up to make contact with piercing grey pupils that make her suck in her breath.  It’s him, it’s Gale, she could barely recognize him anything but a uniform or a hospital gown.

 

“I’ll tell you again Sir, there is no one called Madge that works here and if you don’t leave I’ll have to call the-”

 

“Mindy, it’s fine.  I know him,” she insists, making the older woman die down.  “I’m just going to take a short break, I’ll be right back.”

 

She practically jogs out of the building and just hopes that Gale followed her out.  When they’re far enough from the library, far enough for Mindy not to spy through the glass walls Gale takes her hand and spins her around.

 

“Madge,” he repeats.

 

“How did you find me?”

 

“You said, the library across from the candy store near Druid Park.  I looked at a map, figured you had to be working here, or someone would know something about you,” Gale answers plainly.

 

“And why did you need to find me?”

 

“I asked you to wait for me, didn’t I?”

 

“In a letter, after you’d been scheming to leave for days,” Madge spits.  She still wants an explanation, her heart still hurts when she thinks about the way it was shattered.  “Why would I take your vague plea seriously when you’d just abandoned me without notice.”

 

“I couldn’t bear to tell you,  _ Margaret, _ ” he explains.  “Everything was perfect with you.  I wanted to believe that it was lasting forever when I knew that it wasn’t and I’m sorry for that, I am.”

 

“I knew it wasn’t lasting forever too, Gale.”

 

“I didn’t want you to stop believing in us though,” he sighs, and Madge can’t help but scoffs.

“Why?  So that I’d run into your arms when you found me here?  That’s selfish of you.”

 

“No, because I went home to work for months so I could buy this,” he replies, reaching for a small box from his pocket and opening it.  It’s a simple band with the most beautiful ring, and Madge looks at him with disbelief.  “I’m not proposing to you right now, so don’t gape your mouth like that.  I don’t even know your last name.  But I know that I feel something for you Madge, I think about those weeks at the hospital every day and pray that I feel even a fraction of that happiness again.”

 

Madge can’t stop looking at his grey eyes, trying to detect a farce or some grand joke.  She feels the same, every day she wishes she could be with him and every night she dreams about him.  And here he is, in a loose white shirt with suspenders and hair that’s longer than it used to be.

 

“I’ve been working hard and I just moved here,” he starts, but Madge shakes her head.

 

“You  _ moved _ to Baltimore?  Gale, that’s crazy I don’t-”

 

“I’m sending cheques back every month, renting a place in the busy parts.  If you want me gone, I’m gone.  But if you missed me too, if maybe in your heart you really did wait for me, please give me a chance.”

 

Madge hugs him then, tight and hard inhaling his scent like she never could when she was a nurse and he, her patient.  All her reservations are gone when she touches him, and she thinks his are too when he wraps his arms around her waist and buries his head in her hair.

 

“You’re crazy, Gale,” she whispers again with a smile, knowing that he must be smiling too.

 

“I know,” he mumbles into her shoulder.  “But I’m just glad I found you.”

 

They hug for what seems like hours and at the end Madge finds it silly that she ever thought she saved his life.  Because really, he saved hers. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think and if you'd like to read more historical pieces like this! I know Nurse Madge/Soldier Gale is such a cliche, this is just my take on it. 
> 
> Also, I didn't realize it had been so long since I updated here! A busy period of my life just ended, so I'll try to be better from now on. Thanks so much for reading, comments and kudos always appreciated.


	11. Best Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gale and Madge are best friends, or more? Rated E for smut and language.

It’s almost lunch, the time that they decided to meet for breakfast.  But Gale loves to sleep in, so does she, so neither of them protest to the scheduling of events.  He sits in the diner booth sipping on black coffee when the bell above the door rings and rattles.

 

“Sorry I’m late,” Gale hears from behind him.  He turns around to face her and he smiles.  

 

“Hey Undersee.”

 

“Hi,” she greets back.  Sliding into the booth, she takes off her coat and reveals last night’s dress.  Gale notes that Madge is fresh faced without any light makeup, and her hair is slightly damp as well.

 

“This is a different look you have going on here,” he teases, and Madge rolls her eyes.

 

“I went out with the girls last night, you know how it is.”

 

“I’m assuming you didn’t leave with the girls last night.”

 

“Shut up, Hawthorne,” Madge commands with a joking grin.  Even when they’ve known each other for years, they still don’t talk about sex as openly as people would expect from best friends.  Gale saves that for his close guy friends, like Thom, and he’s sure Madge does the same with Delly and Johanna. 

 

She coughs and signals the waiter, waving to him and giving him a nod.  They don’t even bother with menus anymore, they both know what they want, and so does the waiter.  They come here at least once a week, but always for breakfast food regardless of the time of day.

 

Madge scans him up and down and a look of worry falls over her face.  “You look tired, did you sleep at all?”

 

He laughs.  Being tired is the least of his problems right now.  “Leevy broke up with me last night.”

 

“Shit, are you serious?” she asks with a worried expression.  Gale nods.  “For good?”

 

“I think so.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Madge offers, biting her lip, but she knows that it will hurt regardless of her condolences.  Gale had been dating Leevy for almost six months, and at some moments he really thought it was going to last.  “Did she tell you why?”

 

A coffee comes for Madge, and she smiles politely before returning to her face of apology.

 

“I don’t know.  Something about my job and that time her family came to visit.  Long story short, I guess I was a bad boyfriend.”

 

“That’s all? Wow,” Madge sighs, and Gale shrugs, not knowing what else to say.  “I guess I shouldn’t ask about that time her family came to visit.”

 

“I guess not,” he shrugs, but she still raises an eyebrow.  “I don’t know, I was just bored.  Using my phone, giving curt answers, you know the rest.”  He’s no good at pretending to be polite, especially when he’s not enjoying himself.

 

“Okay, but that sounds like what Gale Hawthorne is like  _ all _ of the time,” she teases.

 

“You’re awful.”

 

Madge snorts.  “Yeah, talk about it.”

 

The host comes over with an egg’s benedict for Madge and french toast with bacon for Gale.  They thank him, and take a few minutes to just eat, both starved from putting off a meal until this time of day.  After a couple of bites Madge swallows, brushing hair away from her face and looking up at him.

 

“So I’m going on a business trip this week.”

 

“Oh really?  To where?”

 

“Los Angeles.”

 

“Okay,” Gale nods, letting the information sink in.  Madge goes on trips pretty often, and her publishing company always sends her to outrageously beautiful places to meet with potential authors and illustrators.  “That should be fun.”

 

“I guess,” she shrugs, sipping her coffee.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean yeah, it’ll be fun.  Good weather and all, and I’m going with Delly.  But I don’t know, travelling just stresses me out.  I’m a homebody through and through.  You know that.”

 

“I fucking wish we could trade jobs,” he jokes, and Madge laughs plainly.  His job is so boring these days, the engineering firm won’t even let him go out to the construction sites yet.  For months he’s been glued to a desk and crunching numbers, triple checking building calculations.

 

Breakfast with Madge on Saturdays has been a ritualistic item for almost two years.  It’s hard to keep up with your best friend when you both lead busy lives, but they’ve been able to designate this time to each other, and Gale’s glad that’s the case, because they click.  

 

They had met in college through Katniss and other friends but hated each other immediately.  Gale’s not sure why, probably because of his biases on her and a lack of desire to understand each other.  But when he and Katniss were dating she had forced them to get along, and that friendship ended up lasting longer than his romance with Katniss, funnily enough.

 

“Can you feed Snickles for me?” Madge asks towards the tail end of their meal.

 

“Huh?”

 

“When I’m gone next week.  Can you feed him?”

 

He chuckles and shrugs.  “Sure.  I’ll feed your cat for you.  But I won’t take him to my place.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.  I know all about your expensive upholstery,” Madge nods, rolling her eyes and smiling.  “He’s really independent.  You truly just have to feed him.”

 

“Sure, Undersee.  Anything for a friend.”  There’s a flicker of hesitation in Madge’s eye, a flinch of sorts, but Gale doesn’t catch it.  He coughs and wipes his mouth.  “You’ll be back before Saturday though, right?  We can still do this next week.”

 

“Oh yeah, my plane lands back here on Thursday night so it won’t be a problem.”

 

“Cool,” he replies, really meaning it.  The split bills arrive and they pay accordingly, and when they’re out the door and almost ready to go their separate ways Gale pulls her in for a hug, and her arms wrap around his torso instinctually.

 

“Bye Gale.”

 

“Bye.  Call me, okay?”

 

“Okay.  See you next week.”

 

* * *

 

Gale reaches under her welcome mat for the spare key and unlocks her door, stepping in and looking around for the feline.  He spots Snickles lounging on the window sill unsuspectingly, so he deems it safe to enter.  He’s only slightly scared of Madge’s pet, he never had one in the house growing up after all.

 

It’s Madge’s second day gone from the city, and as he promised, he’s stopping by her place after work to feed the damn thing.  Work was fine, he review a small project that he’d been assigned to one more time and then sat in on a couple of meetings.

 

Looking around her kitchen cupboards for the cat food, it’s nowhere to be seen.  But Gale has done this before, and he’s seen Madge feed her cat dozens of times over, he’s just forgetful of these things.  So he wanders around to other storage compartments, and even though her apartment is familiar to him he still feels like he’s intruding.  On her walls there are pictures of her family, other friends, a lot with the two of them though.  There’s one from that time she tried to teach him how to ski, that must’ve been taken at least three years ago when they had just graduated.

 

The cat food is under the bathroom sink.  He dutifully pours it into the pan, fills the other with water and makes his merry way home.

 

His home is half empty, there are spaces on his bathroom counter and in his drawers.  Even though he and Leevy hadn’t officially moved in together they were still as most couples were; she had a drawer at his place and tended to stay the night.  She had come by two days ago to collect all her stuff back, and Gale hasn’t bothered to reorganize and fill in the holes yet.

 

The breakup was amicable and he could see it coming from miles away, but still it bums him out.  So he orders a feast for one of Indian food and when it arrives, he wallows on the couch and watches his crime dramas in peace.  It’s a way to recuperate, and he looks past the fact that he did the same thing yesterday.  He thought about calling up Thom or someone else, but the only person he’s comfortable with just calling to hang casually on a weekday anyway is Madge.  And she’s not here, everyone deserves to veg out every once in awhile.

 

He’s four episodes in when the notification for his work email goes off.  It’s Beetee; he needs blueprints from him for a project that was moved up to tomorrow.  And the blueprints aren’t perfect yet, so Gale lets out a sigh, turning off the TV and going to work.

 

It’s not often that the firm makes him do things after hours.  Gale understands the urgency and it’s not like he’s doing anything important anyways.  At least if he’s working he doesn’t feel useless, it’s a better use of his time that switching on Episode 5.

 

It takes a couple of hours to finish, and when he finally sends it into his project manager he hops right into bed.  Gale decides to check his Instagram, see what Madge is up to right now.

 

There are a couple of photos that she’s already posted from the trip.  They’re mostly just scenery, he doubts that she and Delly have time to visit Hollywood Boulevard during their business trip.  But there’s a picture of her drinking coffee in a little cafe, Delly probably took it, and he notices that the sunny skies outside bring out her eyes.

 

He’s still scrolling through his social media feed, halfway to falling asleep when his phone starts to ring, and Gale is startled out of his trance to pick it up.

 

“Hello?”

 

_ “Gale!”  _ he hears on the other end, and he smiles when he recognizes her voice.  It’s a coincidence that he was just thinking about her.  He checks the digital clock on his nightstand and realizes how late it is, it really took him a while to finish Beetee’s task.

 

“Hey Undersee, how’s business?”

 

_ “Good!  And California is so beautiful, you’d love the weather.” _

 

“Are you outside?”

 

_ “I was.  Just got back from a bar with Delly,”  _ she explains, and Gale chuckles with understanding.

 

“A bar, eh?  I guess that explains why you’re calling me at this time.”

 

_ “What do you mean?  It’s only ten.” _

 

“It’s one in the morning where I am,” he offers and Madge gasps, and then proceeds to burst into giggles.

 

_ “I’m so sorry, I hadn’t thought about the time difference at all.” _

 

“Don’t worry about it,” he insists, taking off his glasses and placing them on his nightstand to rub his eyes.  He only wears them when he’s reading or watching a screen, but his eyes get sore after long.  Plus, with the state Madge is in right now, he probably won’t get back to working, who knows how long she’ll want to talk.  “What are you doing now?”

 

_ “Just sitting in bed.” _

 

“That’s all?”

 

_ “Well I was scrolling through the TV channels, but nothing good was on.  So I wanted to call you,” _ Madge explains, as if she’s trying to recount it to herself.  

 

“Sounds fun,” Gale comments mundanely.  He’s glad she called despite the time, his day was looking to just be another boring and long one without her.  Madge doesn’t go on business trips often, but when she does Gale feels the impact in his chest.  He doesn’t even want to think about what would happen if they lived in different cities.

 

_ “What about you?” _

 

“Hmm?”

 

_ “What have you been up to?  How’s the breakup been treating you?”   _ His best friend is surprisingly comprehensible when she’s intoxicated, if anything she becomes more honest, more considerate.

 

“It’s been alright, I’ve mostly just been concentrating on work.  Watching a lot of TV.”

 

_ “That’s not good.  You should take care of yourself, start running again.” _

 

“It’s the middle of February, Undersee.”

 

_ “The gym exists, you know?”  _ Madge points out smartly, and Gale snickers and shrugs, knowing that she can’t see him.   _ “Also, you shouldn’t dwindle.  She wasn’t worth it.” _

 

“I know that,” he insists.  His relationship with Leevy only lasted a couple months, it was fun but it never got too serious.  He needed emotional connection, but she gave him some distraction and good memories.  “I always get hung up over my exes though, you’ve seen me.”  He gets silence on the other end for a while, but he stills hears her breathing closely, close enough to know she hasn’t fallen asleep on him.  “Katniss too, you know?”

 

_ “Yeah,”  _ she replies.  _  “Wow, I’m just realizing that almost all of your exes are brunettes.” _

 

“What can I say, maybe I have a type.”

 

More dead air fills the call, and Gale wonders if he’s said something wrong.  Madge’s breath is shaky, and the static is severe enough for the noiselessness in his apartment to jar him.  The juxtaposition is two separate silences that sounds so different, and he doesn’t know which one is worse.

 

_ “Fuck, Gale,” _ she whispers after some time, she’s laughing humorlessly.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Madge sighs. _  “I’m so in love with you.” _

 

They’ve said the words before, platonically and casually.  Gale’s never heard them in this way though, not from anyone, definitely not from her.  The thought makes his gulp, and he panics.  “I love you too.”

 

_ “No you don’t get it.  I don’t… I can’t do this.  I don’t know why I said that to you, I’m tipsy.” _

 

“Maybe because you meant it?” he offers.  Gale understands what Madge meant, he just didn’t want to assume.  And now she thinks he’s clueless or something worse.

 

_ “But _ you _ didn’t.” _

 

“Sure I did, you’re my friend and I-”

 

Madge laughs humorlessly, cutting him off.   _ “I have to go.” _

 

“No you don’t,” he points out.  “You just got back to your room, you don’t have to go anywhere.”

 

_ “Gale, I  _ want _ to get off the phone,” _ Madge restates, and he gives up.  He’s confused and tired, barely lucid enough to comprehend this call.  Maybe it’s a dream, but he doesn’t know if it’s good or bad.  _  “I’ll see you when I get back, okay?” _

 

“Sure.”

 

_ “Goodnight,” _ she adds.

 

“Bye, Undersee,” he bids before the line ends and the phone goes back to it’s home screen.  Gale growls at it, tossing it onto the foot of his bed and covering himself in blankets.

 

She confuses the fuck out of him.  He knows that she had a few drinks, but the words still get to him.  He never thought he’d hear them from her, he’s not sure why.

 

Because that fragile platonic love they shared now seems to be a facade.  How long as she felt this way?  Gale always thought of Madge on another level, an untouchable one that he would never be able to cross.  But if she thinks of him in that way, if she really meant it, then Gale is left to reevaluate their whole relationship.

 

Which he does.  All throughout his sleepless night and until she comes home.

 

* * *

 

_ Madge:  I’m not feeling so good today, I think I caught something on my trip.  Raincheck on breakfast tomorrow? _

 

Gale stares and his phone and sighs, wishing that they could speak in person.  It’s confusing, he’s not sure if her excuse if real or not but Madge is definitely acting like nothing is wrong, and that worries him.  He wants to talk about the call, but he’s not going to be able to do so if she’s so willing to neglect the fact.

 

And he gets even more antsy when days pass and he hears nothing from her.  She isn’t the type to leave problems un-dealt with, they both like facing them head on, why would Madge need to ignore him like this?

 

It’s not like her.  Well at least, it wasn’t like her before.  Gale doesn’t know what their relationship is like now and where it’s going, and that’s all he really needs for her to clear up.

 

So on Wednesday after work, he heads over to her place.  She’s always home from work before he is, he’s certain he’ll find her there.

 

He knocks on the old door and puts his hands in his pocket.  It’s still chilly in the city these days.  When Madge opens the door and smiles he’s grateful that he can step into a warm space.

 

“Hey Gale,” she greets, gesturing him in.  She looks good, well rested and comfortable.  So unlike the way Gale’s been beating himself up for the past week.  “How have you been doing?”

 

“Well,” he lies, trying to figure out how nonchalant she’s being.  “What about you?  Are you still sick?”

 

“Sick?” Madge asks for a second, before her eyes widen and she nods.  “Sick, right, yeah.  I’m feeling a lot better, thanks for asking.”

 

“Why are you avoiding me?” he asks with narrow eyes, but she plays it off.

 

“I’m not,” she answers quickly.  “Do you want something to drink?  A beer or something?”

 

“Sure,” he sighs, willing to let her play the hostess if it’s her defense mechanism.  Gale follows her into the kitchen, where she pulls two beers out of her fridge and pops open the caps with an opener.  She slides one toward him on the counter so that they’re both holding them, but neither of them drink.

 

Madge is dressed for spring.  She’s wearing a flowy, cream coloured dress that falls just above her knees with flirty sleeves.  He wonders if she’s even been outside today.  It’s beautiful on her nevertheless, and he isn’t complaining about his view of her creamy legs.

 

“Pretty dress,” he nods, and she smiles.

 

“Thanks.  You know I hate dressing for the weather outside.  I dress for-”

 

“-the weather you wish we had,” he blurts, finishing her sentence.  They share a moment of recognition and familiarity, it means that things are still well between them.  Gale hesitates and takes a breath, searching for any response Madge can give to his silent question.  “Madge.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Are we going to talk about it?”

 

“Talk about what?”  She just wants to hear him say it.  She wants to see how he phrases it so that she can know if it’s a good or bad thing, Gale knows her too well.

 

“Are we going to talk about the phone call?”

 

Silence, and then a shrug.  “What is there to talk about, Gale?”

 

“Come on, Undersee, are we really going to do this?  We’re just going to pretend that nothing is different?”

 

“Isn’t that what you want?”

 

“What?  No.  Why would I want that?  You said that you-” he hesitates for a second, maybe waiting for Madge to react.  But she doesn’t even flinch, she just stares blankly back at him.  “Madge, you said that you loved me.”

 

“I guess I did,” she laughs facetiously.  She wanders away from the kitchen but Gale just follows her, so she turns around to face him.  There’s no counter in between them now, and even though he towers over her slightly he feels like she’s in charge.  “So, what did you want to talk about?”

 

“Did you mean it?”

 

Madge challenges him.  “What if I did?  That wouldn’t change anything, it’d just make you uncomfortable.  We’d have to either stop being friends or you’d have to reciprocate.”

 

“Then what if my answer is the latter?”

 

“Shut up, Gale,” she demands, but Gale doesn’t want too.  He doesn’t understand why she thinks his automatic response to her admitting feelings for him would be disgust.  Because he’s attracted to her.  She’s beautiful, any rational person would agree on that one.  And he already knows he loves her personality and her humour, so does it have to be any more complicated than that.  “Please don’t mock me like that.”

 

“I’m not mocking you,” he insists, shaking his head.  “I’m serious.”  Gale wonders what his eyes look like right now, because her blue ones are wide and full of a curious confusion.  He leans in closer and Madge doesn’t budge.

 

“Undersee?”

 

She swallows.  “Yes?”

 

“I’m going to try something.”

 

He cradles her face and leans in, so that their lips just graze.  Instantaneously Madge leans forward too and captures his mouth purposefully and begins to kiss him proper, and Gale can barely help himself when he takes two steps in and pins her to the wall.

 

It’s so strange, kissing a girl that he’s known for years who he’s been so close too.  Most of his friends are other guys and a lot of his relationships started fast and fizzled out.  But Madge is a completely different circumstance, one that he’s unfamiliar with.

 

So he approaches it gently, nipping at her lip and gently raking his fingers through her soft hair.  Gale doesn’t know what she likes and decides to play it safe, but quickly realizes he’s making a mistake when she pushes him away.

 

“Stop,” she spits out, hands propped against his chest.  Gale scans her eyes for a sign, any emotion that will work out his confusion but all he gets are piercing blue irises indicating a passion.  “Stop it.”

 

“What?”

 

“Don’t kiss me because you pity me.”

 

He doesn’t pity her at all, not in that way.  He doesn’t see her as some poor girl pining over her best friend, and he wishes Madge knew that of him.  Maybe Gale’s being hesitant, but it’s not because he’s trying to soothe her out of her sadness.  He’s hesitant because she’s Madge and she’s beautiful and if he asks for too much at once his chest might shatter.

 

“I don’t.  But what do you want then?” he asks.  Because if she wants to stop, he can stop.  He’ll walk away like none of this happened and try to promote some sense of normalcy.

 

Madge is staring too and Gale knows that won’t be her answer.  He feels her consent when her fingers curl around the collar of his shirt, he sees it in her eyes.  “Don’t kiss me like you pity me.  Kiss me like you  _ want _ me.”

 

And that, Gale has no problem with.  He pushes her against the wall and captures her lips forcefully, inhaling her breath and running fingers through her hair.  Her small hands trace his chest and the back of his neck never stopping for long.

 

Her smell is familiar but Gale never associated it with these sensations.  And now, he doesn’t think he can hold her coat or step into her place without picking up the notes of her perfume and thinking about kissing the soft skin of her neck.  He sucks on it and Madge moans, using her hands to pull him closer.

 

She’s incredible.  Gale wants Madge to take him and just devour every breath he gives her.  He wants more, so when he lifts her leg around his waist and she hooks the other one around too, he can’t help but gasp at the closeness of their groins.  He carries her to her bedroom, lips never leaving hers.

 

When Madge falls softly onto the mattress she’s already reaching for his fly, and that's how Gale knows she's been anticipating this as much as he has.  Everything is so perfect it feels rehearsed, even when his hands stroke her stomach from under her shirt.  They feel the same temperature even though he knows that he’s hot.

 

“Turn over,” she whispers against his lips, so Gale has no choice but to sit on the bed with his back against the frame.

 

“I want to see you,” he replies, asking for compromise.  Madge complies, slipping off her dress revealing a simple black bra and lacy panties.  Compliantly he sheds his shirt too, and without notice her hands are back on his fly and feeling him through his jeans.  He’s already hard, and because she seems to determined to get him naked and because she’s looking at him in  _ that _ way, he gladly lifts his hips so that she can slide them off.

 

“Mmm,” she moans hungrily, stroking his hardness and kissing his chest.  Gale would’ve never known that Madge was such a minx, but when she scrapes her teeth against his nipples and kisses them all doubt falls through his mind.

 

“Oh, fuck,” he groans loudly, and Madge just giggles.

 

“Do you like that?”

 

“Yes,” he spits out, closing his eyes in concentration.  It’s hard to do so when one hands still stroking him through the fabric of his underwear and the other is playing with the band.  She tugs at his boxers and slowly pulls them down.

 

His cock springs free, already embarrassingly stiff and ready and for a moment Gale is insecure.  He doesn't know why, he is usually confident with women in the bedroom and has been told he shouldn't worry about his size.  But something feels more intimate about the way Madge stares at it, biting her lip with furrowed brows.   
  
Her dancing fingers clutch his shaft suddenly, giving him a full pump and suddenly all his insecurity is thrown out the window.  Gale groans when she slows down at the tip and rubs it with her thumb.     
  


“Fuck, Madge,” he whispers.

 

“What?” she demands back.  “Tell me.”

 

“That feels good.”

 

“Should I keep going?  Or do you want to do something else?”  It feels like a trick question, whether he wants to continue with this handjob or move forward.  No matter his answer, he definitely doesn’t want to stop, so he pulls her in to kiss her more.

 

He also decides she needs to be more naked, he wants to taste every expanse of her soft skin it hurts.  So he reaches around for the clasp of her bra, setting it free and letting her slide her arms out of the skimpy thing.  Gale growls and pulls her onto his lap so that her panty-covered crotch is rubbing against his shaft and her chest is in line with his mouth.  His tongue darts out to lick one, then he takes it in his mouth and sucks gently, and Madge melts into him.

 

“Oh!”  The sounds that she’s making are quiet whimpers that escape over top of her heavy breathing.  Gale can barely look up and see her face, eyes closed with eyebrows scrunched together.  He loves the feeling of feminine fingers laced through his hair, and Madge seems to know exactly.

 

He switches to the other breast to do it justice, and then his hands ghost at her waist, teasing her pantyline.  “Take these off?”

 

Madge nods and begins to slide them off.  “There are condoms in the bedside table.”

 

So he extends a long arm and opens the drawer to pull out a foiled packet.  It reminds him that neither of the two of them are innocent, they’re both experienced in mature in these realms.  But with Madge he feels like he’s learning again, it’s not just a process from start to finish but something he’s trying to savour, something he’s scared will end.

 

He doesn’t open the condom just yet, but they both acknowledge it’s there.  He watches, mesmerized as Madge slides off the panties and takes them off her legs.  She’s shaking a little bit, like she does when she’s anxious, so Gale puts a hand on her thigh and asks.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.  I’m nervous, I don’t know why.”

 

“Are we moving too fast?”  He doesn’t mean to kill the mood but he needs to know.  Just last week she was only a friend, just a couple days ago they weren’t talking.  And now she’s straddling him, baring herself to him, and if Gale’s overstepping he just needs to know.

 

But Madge laughs and shrugs.  “I don’t know.  You’re the one who’s going through a breakup, why don’t you tell me.”

 

They both pause for a second, and Gale stops to think of the best response while biting his lip.  It’s hard to articulate why the timing of this doesn’t feel so wrong, even though it probably should.  “Madge, I think I’ve wanted you for a while now.”

 

She raises a brow.  “You think?”

 

He wishes he could give her more, especially when he knows exactly how she feels about him.  She said the words over the phone and there’s no taking them back, not when Gale already feels so affected by them.  When Madge said the words they choked him, and now he wants to be smothered by them.

 

“I want you,” he repeats more confidently this time.  His hands trail back to her thighs and start to move inward and he notices that she’s stopped trembling.  “Can I..?”

 

“Yes,” Madge whispers, and before he can say anything more she’s diving in for another kiss.

 

They make out like teenagers for minutes, and that’s almost enough for them until he hears her grabbing the condom from beside him.  She retracts back from his mouth, staring at him intently as she begins to roll it on for him.  Gale tries to stay still but the cool latex against his cock along with the idea of Madge putting it on for him with her dainty little fingers has him twitching.  When she meets his base, Madge mounts him so that his head is poking at her entrance.  Her pussy is so warm, Gale just wants to thrust upwards but he stays frozen where he is.

 

Slowly she sits down on his cock, and as every inch fills her body her eyes become shut tighter, her mouth drops more and more open.  It’s fucking beautiful, and all he can do it watch.

 

“Gale…” she groans when he bottoms out, filling her tightly.  “You feel so good.”

 

“You’re incredible,” he manages to breathe out in response.  

 

“Do you want me to fuck your cock?” Madge asks seductively, leaning in close to his face with half-closed lids.  It’s then that Gale realizes that he had befriended a temptress, and for years he had no idea of this fact.  Her questions shoot straight to his groin and he nods in response.

 

‘Yes.  Please.”

 

So then Madge begins to ride him, slowly and deliberately with the roll of her hips.  Her breasts are in his face and he would latch onto her dusty pink nipples if her hands weren’t woven through his hair, pinning his head to the wall.  Gale watches her then, watches the way she moves back and forth and the way she moans when he’s hit a spot.

 

It’s rare that a girl enjoys it when she does all the work, but Madge clearly loves it, gets off on it.  Gale gets off on divulging his control, and knows that she’s a rare type of woman anyway.

 

“You feel so good inside of me.  So, so good,” she admits, opening her eyes and staring at him.  The eye contact adds to the intensity of the pleasure building in his groin.

 

Gale doesn’t know if Madge manages to make all her sexual encounters feel so personal and so heightened, but by the way she moans his name between thrusts and through his own wishes, he hopes this is something special to her too.  Of course it is, she’s the one who said the words, but Madge has experience, and Gale wouldn’t be surprised if every guy she’s been with had these same thoughts during sex.

 

“I’m close,” she whispers into his ear after a while longer.  “I’m going to come, Gale.”

 

That’s when she reaches for his hands and puts them against her hips.  It’s permission, permission to meet her thrusts and bring her pleasure.  Of course, he complies.  When he flexes his hips and buries himself to the hilt, Madge almost screams. 

 

And then they move simultaneously, eyes never leaving one another’s gaze.  When she reaches complexion she moans something that sounds like his name, biting into his shoulder and riding out her orgasm.  Her walls tighten and clench his cock, and suddenly with a shout Gale feels a wave of heat and sees nothing but white.  He’s finished too, and all that’s left are heavy pants and the recognition of skin against skin.

 

When he comes down from his high, Madge has gotten off of him and is still cradling his face.  He turns his head to face her, giving her another kiss.

 

“You’re amazing,” he states, and Madge nods silently, still trying to catch her breath.  “Wow.”

 

“Yeah, wow,” she agrees, bringing the sheets up to cover their legs.  “I should’ve said ‘I love you’ a lot sooner, right?”

 

He chuckles.  “I fucking wish.  I definitely wouldn’t’ve had the guts.”

 

Gale gets up and goes to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and relieve himself.  When he’s heading back he almost steps on something at the door, and it startles him.

 

“Fuck!” he shouts at Madge’s cat, standing obliviously there staring back at him.  He hears Madge’s soft laugh and when he looks up, she’s at the door.

 

“Was he here the whole time?”

 

“I just let him in.”

 

He lets out a sigh of relief and heads to the doorway, wrapping his arms around Madge’s waist and pulling her in.  For a minute they just observe each other, trying to figure out the repercussions of their pleasure.

 

“What now?” Madge asks, reading his mind.

 

His lips kiss her temple, and everything is clear to him.  “We need to give this a try.  We have to.”

 

“Why”

 

“Because it feels right,” he answers, shrugging.  “It makes sense.  And the sex was amazing.”

 

She laughs and blushes, looking away from him slightly.  It’s an enigma to him, how she can be so assertive at one moment and in the next be so modest about it.  Madge is everything, and now for Gale, he has no other goal than to make her see that.

 

“Okay?” he asks, seeking for a final answer.  He doesn’t pity her, or want her any less just because she said it first.  It slipped out when she had a few drinks but he knows that she means it, he wants to hear her say it sober.

 

Madge just nods.  “Okay.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was basically just a rambly transcription of an idea I had, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. :)   
> Right now when I'm writing smut ALL I can think about it dominant Madge, submissive Gale - not an exaggeration.   
> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos always appreciated.


	12. Madame Faye's Brothel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a 1920's, Prostitute!Madge AU. It's Rated E (MA) for sexual content, so if this combination of things isn't your cup of tea, you don't have to read it! Also, I have no knowledge of the lingerie of this time period and only a Google search worth of knowledge of brothels in California at that time. Please don't call me out on the historical facts.
> 
> I had so much fun writing this one, I hope you guys enjoy it too! :)

**San Francisco, 1924**

 

“Where are you taking me Odair?” Gale demands for the fifth time that night.  He tries to follow his friend’s brisk walking speed on the sloped sidewalks.

 

“Somewhere special, just keep up,” Finnick answers back ominously.  Gale is confused but intrigued, and besides his friend is known for his ability to have a good time.  So he walks alongside him, pacing down the streets of San Francisco.

 

It wasn’t often that they got time off from the mines out in the valley.  The two men are both working at a company, one that used to mine for gold decades ago but now in the 20’s, mostly looked for silver and iron.  But this weekend the nation is celebrating President’s Day, and Finnick convinced Gale to drive into the city with him and really take some time off.

 

“Say, how do you know your way around so well?” he asks casually, having no perception of where they are on the map he briefly studied.  The whole city looks the same to him - narrow streets and buildings build on windy, hilly roads at mid-height.

 

“Do you not remember anything I tell you?” Finnick asks rhetorically, shaking his head at his friend’s forgetfulness.  “I grew up in the Bay Area.  My Ma’s house is just ten blocks from here.”

 

Gale recalls him mentioning that once, but he never expected it to stick.  After a couple more minutes of walking and what he’s led to believe is just Finnick’s regular pace, he tries again.  “Can you give me any hints?”

 

“How does your wallet feel tonight, Hawthorne?”

 

“Sturdy,” he answers honestly.  Both of them have sturdy wallets right now.  The mining industry is doing spectacularly well, they’re both making enough to send home and save a little bit for themselves.

 

“Alright, well then this should be fun,” his friend grins, stopping in his tracks.  They’ve arrived at what looks like a house, a big one with many floors.

 

Gale is confused as they walk up the steps, but once they make their way inside it’s no longer any mystery where Finnick has taken him.  He smells thick, sultry perfume and stands around cluelessly until a girl, clad in a short dress, asks to take his coat.

 

“Good evening, gentlemen,” an older woman says, walking up to them and giving them a marketable smile.  “My name is Madame Faye, your hostess for the evening.”

 

“Thank you,” Odair nods, beaming back at the woman brightly.  Gale tries to catch his friend’s eye to reject his proposition, but he knows that Finnick’s mind is already five steps ahead.

 

“May I welcome you into the parlour, where our ladies are waiting?” Madame Faye asks cordially, motioning them into the main room where men and women socialize amongst each other.  “Feel free to talk to them all before you make a decision.  And if you so desire, you can take her upstairs, where I’m sure you’ll find her at the least, entertaining.”

 

“Finnick, I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

 

“What do you mean?  When was the last time you were with a girl?  Months at least, if not years,” he points out.  All the miners out in the valley are deprived of that kind of attention.  “I’ve been here before, it’s all safe and practical.  Trust me.”

 

“I don’t know if I…”

 

“All of our girls here have special talents, besides the obvious of course,” the matron laughs, gesturing out at crowd.  “So pick whoever you’d like, even if they appear to be busy.  I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to serve to your needs.”

 

She’s referring to the band, the group of ladies all playing a smooth and sultry jazz tune.  Gale looks around the room at all of the beautiful women, each milling about in their provocative dresses and seductive eyes.  He realizes then that he’s severely out of place, he’s barely any good at approaching people to make friends, let alone proposition them to serve his sexual desires.

 

He turns to talk to Finnick, but his friend’s already gone, making his way through the room and smiling at each girl he passes.  So now Gale is stranded, staring blankly at the wall, uncomfortable with even the thought of asking these girls to take him upstairs.

 

So he paces toward the back of the room, where a lady is manning the bar and serving drinks.  He orders a scotch on rocks, even though he doesn’t like scotch, because it sounds like a classy order and he’s trying to put away some anxiety.

 

The liquid is cold but it burns in his mouth sweetly.  Gale downs the rest in one go.

 

He thinks he’s a bit less jittery, but truthfully there’s no good reason for why he’s acting nervous in the first place.  Gale has had his fair share of girls at home and in high school, but nothing quite like this.  Something about a brothel makes it all much more intimidating, much more lewd.

 

And there doesn’t seem to be any hope for him tonight, not when he’s being such a moron and can’t even make eye contact with a girl.  So he walks away from the bar and stops to enjoy the music for a while before he leaves Finnick here for good, but that’s when he sees her.

 

The pianist.  She’s seated in the corner of the room wearing a lacy white slip and a pearl necklace, and there’s something about the way her golden hair tumbles onto her shoulders that makes Gale know that she’s the most beautiful woman he’ll ever meet.  He’s staring but she’s looking at her music, so she doesn’t notice him walking over, lured by her presence.

 

It’s funny how quickly Gale can feel something.  One minute he’s socially uncomfortable, ready to leave and the next he’s feeling tightness in his groin and he’s pondering what his first words should be.  It’s irrational but it’s present and now when he looks at her milky legs he only wants them wrapped around his waist, and when he glances at her nimble fingers he wants to know what they feel like when they’re tugging at his length.

 

He wants to know her name.  He wants her to learn his so he can hear what it sounds like between her lips.

 

He’s working himself up thinking of the right way to approach her to differentiate himself from the rest of the hungry, seeking men (if there even is one) when he hears the piano track stop abruptly.

 

She standing up and looking at him.  Her blue eyes meet his immediately and she smiles coyly.

 

“Libby, could you take over for me?” she says to a girl standing near, and as soon as she’s replaced on the piano she starts walking towards Gale.

 

“Good evening, Sir.”

 

He only gulps, hypnotized by her stare and the timbre of her voice.  It's smooth like honey, not a single rough quality to it.  “Good evening.”

 

She puts her hand out for him to hold so he takes it and presses a lingering kiss to the back.  An irrational part of his brain, the one that’s driving his lust, wants to make a trail up to her collarbones and to suck on her skin, to taste it, but he withdraws his mouth and raises his head.  The girl is staring at his lips, it must be a business strategy of sorts, because he’s lured in.

 

“Shall we go upstairs?” 

 

Gale can only nod.  He follows her upwards and into a private room, hand locked in hers the whole time.

 

The room is dim, only lit by an old looking chandelier with an ambient yellow light.  On the walls are provocative paintings, drawings of the female figure in lewd positions that Gale could only dream about seeing when he was a teenager.  Now he’s in a room plastered with them, and a pretty prostitute is taking off her chemise, leaving her in the silky lace dress that caught his eye in the first place.

 

He knows that sound has nothing to do with sight, but there’s something about the absence of all the voices and laughter from downstairs that makes Gale able to study her more closely.  Now, he sees the dusting of light brown freckles across her cheeks and the tint of green in her blue eyes.

 

“Is there something you’d like to be called?  Master, Sir, a name?”

 

He wants her to call him Gale, nothing like the other options she’s given him.  But is it bad etiquette to use your first name, is that something she’s used to with other men.  He thinks about it, embarrassed by his inexperience.  He probably should’ve asked Finnick for a rundown of brothel rules before they’d arrived.

 

“Call me Mr. Hawthorne,” he tries, hoping that strikes a balance between personal and impersonal.  She nods and smiles, memorizing the name in her head.  “And do you have a name?  Something I can call  _ you _ ?”

 

There’s a moment of hesitation, then a reply.  “Madge.  You can call me Madge.”

 

Gale ponders if this is an odd name for a whore.  Stories that he heard all involved women with names of seduction and romance, like  _ Rose _ or  _ Cassandra _ that apparently belonged in the dark with the other ladies of the night.  But Madge seems like the name of a girl he’d meet back at home, someone he could really know, and that thought comforts him in some way.  It makes him feel more in place.

 

“Madge,” he repeats, practicing rolling it off his tongue.  “You’re really beautiful,” he blurts, not knowing what else to do but compliment her.  “And you’re amazing at playing the piano.”

 

“Thank you,” she responds eagerly, taking a couple steps closer to him.  Maybe she’s reading his words to be an advancement but they’re really just truth.  Gale feels silly for trying to start conversation with this woman that he’ll be paying, so he puts that contention aside.  “What would you like from me tonight, Mr. Hawthorne?”

 

“What do you offer?”

 

“It’s five for a suck, ten for a fuck,” she answers blatantly.  “If you want anything special, prices can be negotiated.”

 

“I do not know,” he answers honestly, barely able to get past the visualization of Madge doing any of these things to him.

 

“Would you like me to talk you through the details?” she mocks, raising an eyebrow.  If it was anyone else questioning his sexual knowledge he’d be offended, but all he sees is fire and he doesn’t mind at all.  So he laughs and sits down on the wide bed, staring at his shoes.

 

“No, I just do not know.  Can we just see where it goes and I’ll pay you as it stands when it’s over?”

 

“Is money a question?”

 

“No.  I have the money, enough for all of it.”

 

“Because it’s 20 for the night.  If you want me… for the whole night,” she brings up with a hint of hesitation.  Gale would gladly have her for the whole night if he could get himself together, but he’s still such a nervous wreck.

 

So he shrugs and nods.  “We’ll just see.”

 

“What do you do for a living?”

 

“I’m a miner.”

 

“Ah.  That explains the money,” Madge laughs coyly.  She’s sat down beside him and he finds himself lost in her features again.  Her lips aren’t painted, they’re naturally pink and flushed.  Gale wants to taste them, he wants to suckle the bottom one until she moans and then bite down on it to her surprise.

 

“How much does it cost to just kiss you?” he asks suddenly, and Madge seems taken aback.

 

“Pardon?”

 

“On your menu of special items.  How much is kissing?”

 

“It’s not on the menu.  But all you want to do is kiss me?”  He assumes not many walk into a brothel just asking to join mouths.

 

“Maybe.  Maybe more.”

 

“Wouldn’t you like to be pleased?”

 

It’s such a strange question, one that Gale tries his best to answer frankly.  “Yes.  And I have no objection to however far things might escalate in this room.  However, I think it would please me just as much if you were to kiss me as if you were to make love to me with no kissing.  Does that make sense?”

 

“So you’re lonely,” Madge concludes, nodding her head and smiling.  “That’s okay.  A lot of men are lonely too.  Some just want to cuddle, we can just do that.  And you can fondle my breasts.”

 

“No, you still don’t understand.  It’s not the act of kissing that I need, it’s that I wouldn’t care about whatever would be done to me, as long as it’s done to me by you.”

 

Her lips are parted as she sits there speechless.  Gale is less anxious now that he’s honest, and he feels comfortable being honest beside this one.  Because she reacts in a way he understands, and he thinks that that attracts him to her even more.

 

“Do you understand what I mean, Madge?”

 

* * *

 

Madge thinks she understands what Mr. Hawthorne means.  She’s been at a failure to understand ever since she caught him gazing at her in the parlour, but she thinks that finally they might be on the same page.

 

She’s not sure what possessed her into giving him her real name instead of the name Madame Faye told her to use, Mallory.  Maybe it was the way he was studying her, with smoking grey eyes and a spark of lust that she barely sees within the confines of the brothel.  Because Madge always associated a brothel with mere satisfaction, lonely men and women seeking to feel just a little less lonely just by touching bodies, by experiencing the skin against skin.

 

But he was looking her with something more, something that felt like intent and even though Madge has only been working as a whore for a couple months she’d never seen anything like him before, and it made her weak with emotions that she can’t articulate.

 

There’s a tangible danger in giving your real name: tracing first name to lastname, lastname to family and all the way to a girl’s home.  There are horror stories of women being stalked by their clients, but Madge felt a naive sense of trust.

 

But now in the room, the tables have turned.  She’d gone from maintaining her composure and dealing the upper hand to being flustered by his insinuating questions.  

 

“I understand,” she promises, running her hands up and down his chest and leaning in closer.  Madge needs to earn back dominance over Mr. Hawthorne, the only way she’s been taught.  So she presses her lips against his and begins to kiss him proper.

 

She moans into it, somewhat for show but also with provenance.  Because the heat from his chest and the hint of liquor on his lips draws her in.  The trace amounts of scotch are comically far from enough to become inhibited, but Madge swears that she’s drunk, head swimming with a haze that’s concentrated towards her brow.

 

They maneuver until he’s lying on the bed, and Madge is looming over him.  She almost instinctively reaches for his crotch, but the client asked for only kissing, and she doesn’t want to disrespect that.  So she keeps her hands on his chest and sometimes moves them to his jaw to feel his stubble.  She knows she’s lucky to have a young and handsome client.  Most of them are old, sad adulterers looking for a reprieve from their mundane lives.  Sometimes there are the younger men, the ones looking for a thrill or a way to satisfy their base desires.  

 

But Mr. Hawthorne doesn’t fit into either.  She tries to categorize him but she can’t.  And on another note, he smells like soap and something else that causes her to squirm in the position she’s in, straddling him and sitting in his lap.

 

“Madge, what do you like?” he asks abruptly, breaking the kiss.

 

“What?” she asks demandingly, not understanding his mind games.

 

“Sexually.  What do you like being done to you?”

 

“Are you like this with all your whores?” she asks on another tangent.

 

“As in…”

 

“Showering them with compliments, treating them like your own wife.  Does the idea of matrimony get you off?”

 

“No, I’ve never been with other whores,” he admits.  “I didn’t know it was irregular to ask questions.”

 

“Most of my clients haven’t really been talkers,” Madge replies casually.  There have been a couple men, the ones who ask for scenarios and confirmation that have been more vocal.  Otherwise the business exchanges have been silent, a rump in the dark that was over as soon as it started.  At least for them.

 

They stare at each other for awhile, and she keeps trying to figure him out.  If he’s never been with a whore before he sure knows how to rile one up.  And he has other experience.  She can tell by the possessive hold on her hips and the way his mouth moves.

 

“But answer me Madge, what do you like when a man is with you?”

 

Madge the girl, not Madge the prostitute, is too shy to answer him out loud.  But he just keeps going with his provocative words.

 

“Do you like it when he plays with your breasts?  Sucking on your nipples and squeezing them gently?”  Her breathing is irregular.  She can’t believe that they’re both fully clothed.  “Or cunnilignus?  Does the image of a man’s head between your thighs rile you up?”

 

“Yes,” she replies justly.  Maybe a franker tone will win her the upper hand.  But she highly doubts it, considering the heat that’s spreading from her cunt and up her stomach.

 

“Okay, how much is that?”

 

“All oral favours are five,” she answers routinely.  But she never fathomed before the concept of a man wanting to pay for the giving end.  Boys that she’s been with have found the idea of cunnilingus to be unsettling, clients have been particularly against it especially because she’s a whore.

 

Nevertheless Mr. Hawthorne sits up and picks her up off of his lap, putting her on the edge of the bed facing sideways.  He’s standing on the ground in front of her, kissing down her neck and nipping at her collarbones in a way that make her gasp, she didn’t know that a man could be so desperate for lust but so commanding in action all at the same time.  When he reaches for her negligee and tries to get it over her head, it comes off with no resistance.  He growls at the lingerie that she’s been hiding underneath, just a pretty pair of underwear.

 

He trails kisses all the way down her pale stomach, deliberately neglecting her breasts and barely touching her mound.  Instead he goes all the way down to her thighs, licking and sucking on the sensitive flesh around her heat.  His tongue is like velvet, and Madge yearns to know what it feels like lapping at her little clit.

 

Mr. Hawthorne bites her inner thigh playfully while smiling smugly to himself, and Madge would usually now tell the man that he’s not to leave marks on her body.  But she doesn’t know if she wants him to stop, nor does she know how to speak when she’s holding her breath.

 

Slowly he ascends to her pantyline, rubbing his face against her lace covered mound and dragging the underwear down with his teeth.  He’s in full control, Madge can’t even try to fight it anymore.  She has no defense strategy, no means to recover from his spell.  It’s shameful, the pleasure she’s capable of anticipating even in this wretched place.  Working at Madame Faye’s brothel was circumstantial, something she saw as a duty that rose out of necessity.  But the fact of her moans and her wetness have been presented, and she doesn’t know how to comprehend the fact that she’s feeling genuine pleasure in an act whose pleasure has been worked out of her.

 

“You’re soaking,” he states plainly, eyes glued to the source of her wetness.

 

“I know,” is her only response.  Madge obviously knows that she’s slick with desire, doesn’t need him rubbing it in.  Her face turns red with embarrassment, heating up.

 

And then he dives in, latching his mouth onto her cunt and sucking out the nectar.  She screams of genuine pleasure, something she rarely does, and feels her legs trembling around his face.  He eats her out with no abandon and hums lowly to signify his own satisfaction.

 

The pressure of his lips and the shapes that he’s drawing with his tongue are perfect, and Madge scorns herself once again for letting herself feel this way.  His hands are cupping her ass from under and kneading slowly, and she would almost mistaken the movement for lethargic if his mouth wasn’t going to town.

 

“Oh, Mr. Hawthorne…” she moans breathily, but he stops his ministrations for one second while his face barely leaves her pussy lips.  He looks up from that enticing angle and pierces her with his grey gaze.

 

“Call me Gale.  Please?”

 

And she would never refuse that kind of plea.  She calls him by what she assumes is his first name, chanting it over and over as he proceeds in her unravelling.

 

Some moments he slows down.  He licks around her core and makes her shiver and whimper, laughing cruelly at her impatience.  But then sometimes, and for the most times, he’s diligent.  He laps at her wetness and traces every figure known to man and that’s what is sending her towards complexion.

 

It doesn’t take much longer after that.  He arrives at his final destination, her swollen little clitoris that’s been merely teased thus far, and sucks hard.  Madge cries out in ecstasy, allow this man, this Gale, to cater to her wanton desires and finish her completely.  She always thought that she would like to die old, but if someone were to tell her that this right now was the end, Madge doesn’t think she’d mind.

 

When she’s ridden the orgasm out she’s exasperated but not completely finished.  It’s unfair, Gale still has his fucking trousers on.

 

“You’re beautiful,” he repeats again, rising to match her eye level.  “I like it when you say my name.”

 

She reaches out to hook around his neck and kiss him, she tastes herself on his mouth and doesn’t mind at all.  Madge is done keeping tabs on what he owes her and feeling guilty for her pleasure, because she wants him in every way.

 

The others girls would call her naive and stupid for feeling deeper things for any client.  Maybe she is naive and stupid, but none of that matters right now.

 

Gale Hawthorne is fire, and she’ll gladly let him burn her.

 

* * *

 

He’s entranced.  Gone is the girl who hesitated to kiss him, all that remains is a tempting siren luring him towards the depths.  Madge is kissing him fervently, stripping him of his clothes and what remaining composure he had.  Gale knows that she’s practiced, that her reactions may be acted out and planned like a performance, but he hopes that even a shred of it is inspired by himself.

 

Madge’s hand comes around his shaft when his pants come off, and she gasps at his reaction which is a hiss and a groan.  She tugs on it and just observes him.  He’s sitting with his head against the wall and she kneeling between his legs in curiousity.  She looks so fucking innocent Gale can barely begin to fathom the things that she does to his cock.

 

“So, Mr. Hawthorne, have you come to a decision?” she asks blithely, mocking their previous interaction.  “Will it be a suck?  Or a fuck?”

 

He doesn’t even bother to give her a verbal answer, pulling her up to where he is and opting for the choice that brings her more distinct pleasure.  Madge laughs at his eagerness, keeping her hand on his length and rubbing it against her heat.  

 

It’s then that he chooses to acknowledge her breasts, taking one into his mouth and sucking lightly.  She moans his name again, which shoots straight to his cock, but her nipples harden up under his touch.  He repeats his actions with the other one as Madge continues to tease his head against her entrance.  He’s so hard it hurts, but something in him is still able to remain rational, to resist the urge to throw her down and fuck her proper.

 

“Gale,” she starts, asking for his approval.  “Are you ready?”

 

He nods and she starts her descent, slow and meticulous as she melts around his shaft.  There’s no sound of breathing as they’re both holding it in, but when finally he’s all the way inside Gale groans loudly.  She feels like heaven, her walls are clenching him tight and they’re pulsating in anticipating.

 

They’re both hesitant to move, Gale wants to make sure she’s accustomed to the size, to keep her safe.  But when Madge starts wiggling on his cock and signaling for more with her jagged breath, he knows what to do.  His hands tighten around her hips and his hips begin to meet hers in a calculated rhythm.

 

At this point, everything is just pleasure.  There are no games or surprise; for some reason he feels this woman is familiar to him and that he isn’t discovering her body for the first time.  His brain and his ears are murky with lust, so all Gale can do is stare at her face and watch the way she expresses her satisfaction like a silent film.  Her lips part sometimes, and other times she bites the bottom one.  Her eyes are are never open though and he doesn’t blame her, Gale just hopes that whatever she’s visualizing behind those eyelids resembles him.

 

For a couple more minutes he’s able to stand being ridden, when truthfully he wants to be on top and let Madge lay down in her pleasure.   So he flips them over so that her head rests on the pillow, he reinserts herself and really begins to see to her.

 

“Oh!” Madge gasps at the newfound angle.  “Oh my god, Gale, you’re so good.”

 

The girl throws her head back in pleasure, which leaves her neck deliciously exposed for Gale to exploit.  He latches onto it, sucking and torturing the skin behind her ear until her verbal encouragement increases in volume and her legs that are wrapped around him hold him tighter to her body.  If she’s faking it, she must be an excellent actress.  That’s why Gale doubts it, he knows that the sensations are mutual.

 

He also knows that he isn’t going to last much longer after this.  His sac is tightening and it’s getting harder to keep a normal breath.

 

“Madge, I’m close,” he says, which causes her to open her eyes.  The eye contact just builds onto the intensity, adds to the energy between them right now.

 

“Pull out,” she suggests in a breathless whisper, wrapping her hands around his neck to keep his face close for now.  He nods obediently as he pummels into her for those final moments, relishing in every thrust and memorizing each noise.

 

When he feels his orgasm bursting through he unsheathes his cock, stroking it to completion.  Gale comes all over her pale belly, moaning erratically and cursing her name.  Her name,  _ Madge, _ which is synonymous with nirvana at this point.  It plays in his head and it fits like a puzzle piece.

 

Gale moves from on top of her and lets her reach over to the night table, where a customary towel waits in the drawer.  She wipes her mid-section and then puts back on her negligee, all while giving him a coy smile.

 

But then reality starts to set in, the reality of their predicament.

 

She’s like this with her men.  He isn’t special to her, probably never will be and this was nothing but an exchange of money for goods.  He feels like he conned himself into making an emotional connection with a person whose real name he doesn’t even know.

 

* * *

 

“What are you thinking about?” she asks as she studies him.  He’s furrowed his brow pensively and is staring at the ceiling.  Gale only has a sheet draped over his lower body, and Madge thinks he looks rather delicious, rather sexy still.

 

“How much of that was real?”

 

“What?”

 

“How much of what you just did was real?  I’m just curious as to how much you need to compensate and how much comes naturally.”

 

And that’s when she realizes that she’s nothing more than a prostitute to him.  All of his emotion was not directed towards her, she was just a vessel for him to inflict it on.  But she doesn’t even care for her dignity anymore, not when she just experienced all of that.  Maybe she’ll find some truth.

 

“All of it,” she claims, but he still gives her a look of skepticism.  “It was all real.”

 

But she only gets silence in return.  It stings like iodine so she retracts.

 

“Nevermind.  I don’t know why I confessed that to you.  You clearly won’t care about me when the sun rises, so I suppose you can pay me and be on your way.”

 

“Wait, what?” Gale snaps, looking back at her again.  “No, I thought that it was you that wouldn’t care about me.”

 

“How is that possible?  The way you treat me, speak to me.  The things you did to me…”

 

“...were different?”

 

“I think so,” is her reply, it’s the best she can do for now.  She’s still trying to decipher the emotions and unpack them in a clear way.  But she can’t right now, not when Gale is still staring at her with metallic eyes.

 

Maybe he’ll realize that she’s as confused as he may as well be, that she is uncertain and scared of the implications too.

 

“Did you always want to work as you do?”

 

It’s a non sequitur, but Madge thinks about her answer nonetheless.  “No.  I wanted to be a pianist.  But it’s hard to get into.  I guess following your dreams doesn’t always work out.”

 

“But you’re so good at it.”

 

“But, I suppose that doesn’t matter at all when everyone else is better,” she states with sarcasm and a little self-deprecation.  “Madame Faye let me play when she realized I could do that too.  She’s good to me and pays me well.”

 

“Madge?”

 

“Mhm?”

 

“Is that your real name?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Okay,” is his response, followed by a breath of relief.  “I don’t really know how to deal with myself right now.  I think that you mean more to me than... what that was.”

 

“Me as well,” she admits, sitting upright.  “I don’t know what that means, though.”

 

“Don’t you want to find out?”

 

It scares her but she does.  Maybe she wants him to take her out on a real date, maybe they’re only compatible in the bedroom.  But she’s curious.  And Madge knows that he is too, so she nods.

 

He gets dressed quickly after that, leaving the question of their status looming in the air.  Madge only has a pair of panties to slip on.  Gale was her only customer of the night and it’s already rather late - their meeting took longer than the average she anticipated.

 

“Do you have a last name?” he asks out of curiosity once he’s in all his clothes.  “One that I can know.”

 

“Yes,” is her answer.  “It’s Undersee.”

 

“Madge Undersee,” he smiles, nodding his head and taking a step closer to her.  He runs his hands through her wavy hair and gives her a chaste kiss.  “I’ll come back around here.  Tomorrow afternoon, surely you’ll be free then right?”

 

She nods and kisses him back, aware of the irony of an innocent kiss.  The circumstances and premonitions were all wrong, but maybe this is the start of something good.  Something worth holding onto. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my classic combination of borderline pornography and a customary happy ending. I feel like this story should have a sad ending, but I just didn't want to write it, I'm weak!
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated. Thank you so much for reading!


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